


Convalescence

by PaintedHeart



Series: Convalescence [1]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Hurt, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 50,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3580251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedHeart/pseuds/PaintedHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU//Post Season 1. Ellie Miller is slowly starting to recover from the destruction of her home and family, and Alec Hardy is there offering support through all of it. But just before the killer's sentencing hearing, Hardy has to leave Broadchurch -- and Ellie -- in order to have his heart surgery. Nor is there any time to recover when he gets back because Ellie and her sons are going to need him more than ever in the aftermath of the hearing. SPOILERS for the first season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU story set just after the events of season 1. I am currently watching and immensely enjoying season 2 on BBC America, but we’re only on episode 2 and my version of events will probably vary wildly from the actual show.
> 
> There isn’t much you need to know before reading this, but if you haven’t finished the first season, DO NOT read this story. It will spoil the killer. I know the show has been out for nearly two years but I don’t want to ruin the end for anyone because the season was so brilliantly and carefully constructed.
> 
> Also, though I have an English mother and a Scottish grandfather, I grew up in America. I may get the slang, speech patterns or titles wrong. Please don’t hesitate to correct me (I’d welcome it!) and please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING! I’d very much enjoy any feedback left on this story, but I appreciate every single reader whether you review or not. I very much hope you enjoy it!

**CONVALESCENCE  
Chapter 1.**

Ellie becomes aware, very slowly, that Hardy is always watching her.

At first she didn’t notice – couldn’t notice – because her life has become the sort of nightmare she never could have imagined before. The only thing she’s able to focus on, and even this is shamefully difficult, is being a mother. Through those first days she somehow marshals enough energy to care for her boys and that is nearly more than she can handle. She keeps hearing Beth echoing her own accusation back at her: “How could you not know?” She agonizes over that very question through every painful hour. Through all of it, Alec Hardy is a presence in her peripheral, and while there’s comfort in that, she can’t focus on him. She simply can’t focus on anything.

But as the days stretch past that first week (and she had been doubting seriously if they’d ever get through that first awful, brutal week), she starts to notice that Hardy is lingering there, just on the outskirts. Not just lingering, either, but staring with those big, brown sow’s eyes.

He’s there when she moves to the outskirts of town. He doesn’t say much. He simply helps her gather what she and the boys need and take it to the new flat. He helps her settle in, and sometimes he’s so quiet that she forgets he’s even there. He leaves just as quietly, just: “See you later, Miller,” and a quick kiss on the cheek that she had not expected from him. It’s a dry kiss, over so quickly and so uncharacteristic of the former DI that she decides she must have imagined it.

More days pass, and he does see her later. He always appears whenever she has to go into town (and she avoids going into town; too many gazes, most curious and some downright hostile). He makes the sort of awkward small talk that she knows is torture for him, but he shows genuine interest in Tom and Fred. She needs these little reminders that he’s a parent, too. Sometimes he’s so distant that it’s hard to remember he has connections outside of his former casework.

Sometimes, now that the wider world is forcing its way back into her life, Ellie catches him staring at her. There is something indecipherable in that gaze of his. It’s not pity, no trace of that, and while sympathy and grief are both there, it’s neither of those things either. It’s as if he’s scrutinizing her, taking stock of all the things she can’t say even to him. She has no idea what to make of it. Rather than dealing with the implications, she lets it make her angry because that’s the easiest thing.

“Stop staring at me all the time,” she snaps at him, quietly because they’re in the middle of getting groceries and there are other people about. Her tone has no less bite to it, even if she can’t yell at him the way she’d like to. “People don’t stare like that, you know. It’s rude.”

Hardy blinks at her as if she’s speaking another language. Then he lifts his shoulders in a small shrug and drags his eyes away as though the boxes of cereal on the shelf had become interesting. He doesn’t apologize or explain, and she huffs a little.

It takes her a moment to realize that she feels a tiny bit better. For that one moment, things were as they had always been between them: him acting like a bit of an alien, and her calling him out on it. There was no false kindness here. But they’d always been direct with one another. He’d always done her the curtesy of that, of never bumbling through empty platitudes in lieu of something meaningful to say.

He leaves her at the end of the high street, his eyes back on her as she climbs into the car she’s called to take her home. He leans down, peering at her face.

“Say hi to the boys for me,” he tells her. She nods, her fingers twisting the handles of the plastic grocery bags.

“You should come ‘round for dinner,” she says, startling them both. He considers for a long, silent moment. Then he nods.

She wags a finger at him. “You’ve got to promise not to stare or the invitation’s revoked,” she tells him, stern as a schoolteacher, and he rewards her with a low, rumbling laugh.

“Off you go then, Miller,” he says, one of those rare smiles still tugging the corner of his lips, and he shuts the door. The car drives away and she glances back once. He is standing there and she’s far enough away now that she can’t see if he’s watching the car, but she knows he is.

Strange man. Her reluctant godsend, but still a strange man.

**-AE-**

His presence at her dinner table is becoming a weekly habit. He brings news from town, but he carefully avoids speaking about the Latimers. He asks Tom about his new school and even helps with his geography homework, displaying an interest in the outer world that Ellie hadn’t guessed at.

He also has decent taste in wine and isn’t even a bad cook, she discovers, as he usually brings around wine or a side dish when he joins them.

She doesn’t want to admit that she sleeps easier on the nights when he’s been by, but she does.

He doesn’t quit studying her, but she’s growing used to it now.

Once, she catches him speaking to Tom on the back porch after dinner. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, only they’d both disappeared and she’d been curious. She hears them before she sees them, but when Tom asks about his father, she freezes for an instant. Then she moves silently to the back door.

“Do you think Dad’s sorry…about Danny, I mean?” Tom asks, his voice a fragile thing.

Hardy’s answer is gruff but gentle. “I’m certain he is, Tom.”

Tom is quiet for a long moment, considering. Then, breaking Ellie’s heart: “I miss him.”

“Of course you do. You’re right to.” Hardy has leveled a very serious gaze at her son, and Ellie can see the compassion there too. “He’s been a good father, and he loves you.”

“I’m angry with him.” Tom’s head drops and he gazes at his shoelaces. “For what he did. For hurting Danny and for leaving us and for making mum cry all the time.”

Hardy nods. His hand drops to Tom’s shoulder. “I’m angry about that too, Tom. Very angry. But you have to take that anger and channel it into taking care of your mum and brother now. They’ll be needing you. Your mum especially.”

Tom looks up at him and Ellie realizes, quite suddenly, that Hardy has won her son over completely. He trusts this battered, tired man for the same reason that she does: his directness, his blasted nobility streak which costs him so much. She touches her mouth with her fingertips, feeling the tears well again.

“Come on then, she’ll be wondering where we are, and – don’t tell her this – but I’m a little afraid of your mum,” Hardy says, standing and brushing off his pants. Tom gets to his feet as well, smiling at the older man like a co-conspirator.

“Too right,” he says, and Ellie has to scramble away from the door to avoid being caught listening.

Later, as he’s leaving, Hardy dips down to brush her cheek with his lips again, and this time she smiles at him. It feels a little strange: these days only Tom and Fred can coax one from her. But he gives her a small smile back and squeezes her hand before he goes. She thinks that maybe he understands.

She watches him walk down the lane, tall and lonely, and amends that thought: she knows he understands.

**-AE-**

It’s a shock when he shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the afternoon three days later. Tom’s at school and Fred is down for a nap, so they’re completely alone. It feels foreign to be alone with him, although she chides herself for being silly. Why should it feel strange? They’d been alone often enough before. But it had been a long while now, and in those days he didn’t look at her the way he did now. She wasn’t sure how he looked at her, but it was different.

She lets him in and he stands in her sitting room, clearly uncertain of what to do with his arms. He scratches at his thick scruff, then shoves both hands deep into his pockets. He looks downright boyish, even with his three-day-old beard, and suddenly Ellie is sure she isn’t up to hearing whatever it is he’s about to tell her. After all, the date for Joe’s hearing is looming closer, and the small amount of recovery she’s managed is slipping through her fingers at the thought of sitting in that courtroom and listening to her husband’s sentencing.

“Out with it,” she demands, keeping a wary distance. He looks at her and his eyes are large and penitent.

“Erm, well…” He is as reluctant to say it as she is to hear it. Her arms cross over her chest protectively.

“Hardy. Just tell me.” Her voice is sharper than she means for it to be, but she’s downright nervous now, and glad her hands are cupping her elbows because otherwise they’d be trembling.

“I’m leaving Broadchurch.”

It’s a blow. She rocks back with it, a physical reaction to the sudden burst of emotion in her chest.

He can’t. He’s the only person in the whole bloody town that will look her in the eye. Even Reverend Coats has trouble with that. She needs him, more than she knew until this exact moment. He can’t leave her now.

He sees her panic and steps closer, invading her space and catching her arm to steady her.

“Ellie, I’m sorry. I know the timing is total shit,” he says, and she can see that he desperately wants her to understand. Before he has an opportunity to explain, she shoves him away.

“Go, then!” Her voice is shrill but she can’t seem to control it. “But I really wish you hadn’t let Tom get so attached to you. Do you realize what this is going to do to him?” _Do you realize what this is doing to me?_

Hardy looks shaken now, and his hands lift toward her again, but she steps out of his reach. It isn’t fair, she knows, to lean on him for comfort so heavily. But he’d simply always been there, always steadying her. He was her friend, the only friend she had left, and for him to leave her here in this town, all alone…it was the last straw. It might actually drive her mad.

“Ellie,” he says again, his voice pleading. She’s never quite heard this tone from him before. “Please, listen to me. Let me explain.”

Her shoulders fall. She won’t meet his gaze. “No need, Hardy.”

“No, there is a need. Look at me, please.” She can see his feet shifting closer, small steps as though he’s approaching an animal he doesn’t want to spook.

“I can’t deal with this right now, Hardy. I really can’t.” There’s fire in her eyes as she looks up at him. She points to the door though he is fully aware of its location. “You should go now, before Tom gets home.”

“Ellie—”

Hardy looks at her with those huge eyes, hoping for reprieve, a chance to tell her the rest of what he came here to, but there’s no quarter in her gaze. She is deeply hurt and he can see it.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go.” He shuffles toward the front door, opens it…but he stops just as he’s stepping out. He looks back at her and now he’s the one looking hurt. “I’ll call you to explain,” he tells her, and then disappears.

The door latches shut. Then she cries.


	2. Chapter 2

****

Chapter 2.

They all suffer from Hardy’s absence, even Fred (although that’s probably more down to Ellie’s deteriorated temper rather than to the man himself). As she had expected, Tom feels quite abandoned, and it makes Ellie angrier than ever. She finds herself wishing that she could erase the past year of their lives. Or at least that she could make Tom forget. Fred is too young to remember any of this, but Tom will carry it with him. For yet another man to gain his trust and then leave…for him to go on the eve of Joe’s court hearing…

Hardy calls her more than once. She ignores the calls, still feeling a bit raw. He leaves a voicemail at last, but she doesn’t listen to it until a full day later.

Then, at last, she realizes what he’d been trying to explain. And she’s made a mistake, a terrible one.

“ _Miller…Ellie. Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I should have led off differently, explained a bit before I said I was leaving._ ” His voice is gravel, his accent thicker now on the recording than she’s heard it before.

“ _I’ve signed off on the—the heart surgery. The specialist that will operate works in London. She wants to operate before I get any weaker—_ ” he spits that word out like a personal affront—“ _so I’ve got to go this week. I know the hearing is coming up and Miller, I swear I argued with the surgeon. But her foot is down. Anyway, you’ve probably deleted this by now, but I’ll call you when the surgery’s over and let you know how it went. Perhaps they’ll do us all a favor and speed up this intolerable death march, eh?...Right, well. See you later, Miller._ ”

“Christ--!” Ellie stares down at the phone in her man. That bloody man! The both of them too obstinate to just fucking listen to one another.

She calls her sister and asks if she can watch Tom and Fred for the night, perhaps two nights. Lucy agrees quickly, and to Ellie’s great relief doesn’t ask too many questions. Then she logs onto the computer and tracks down how she’s going to get to London.

It isn’t until she’s purchasing train and bus tickets that she realizes she doesn’t know exactly where she’s going. Hardy hadn’t mentioned a hospital or even the surgeon’s name. She isn’t certain he’ll even answer the phone if she calls, but she doesn’t have much of a choice.

She’s about to select his number on her mobile to ring him when another question strikes her. Why is it so important to get to him in London? She could just call him and apologize and tell him she’s grateful he’s getting the surgery he so desperately needs at last. Is her presence really required?

But then…she is the only one likely to show up at his bedside, and now that she’s nearly as alone as he is, she can’t stand the thought of him going in for such a risky procedure without any support, without knowing someone will be there when he wakes.

Right, then. Decision made. She dials his number.

It nearly rings itself out, and Ellie curses herself under her breath for not hearing him out before. Just as she’s calling herself a big wanker, Hardy answers the phone.

“Don’t think I deserve that,” he said, and even the alarming exhaustion in his voice doesn’t drown out his quiet amusement.

“Not you, Hardy, me. I’m a wanker. Why didn’t you say you were going to hospital?”

“As I recall, Miller,” he says with exaggerated patience, “I did attempt to tell you that very thing.” She can hear a rustling, as though he’s sitting up in bed.

“Are you alright?”

He chuckles, still sounding out of breath. “Just dandy. They’ve run a full battery of tests to make sure I’m up for the surgery. It’s been a bit…tiring.”

“But you’re getting it right? They’re giving you a pacemaker? When is the surgery? What hospital?” The questions are pouring out of her quickly, and she remembers accusing him of doing the same thing: shooting inquiries out faster than people can answer them.

“One at a time, Miller,” he says, perhaps reliving that very same memory. He sounds amused. “I’m getting the surgery, yes. It’s tomorrow morning, first thing. St Thomas’.”

“Are they…are they very confident?” _Please say yes._

Hardy laughs again. He is in a very good mood for someone about to get their heart operated on. In fact, he’s in a better mood than she can ever remember him being. It takes her a moment to realize that his lift in spirits was down to relief: relief that she’d listened to his message and called him. Relief that she understood now he’d had to leave, not because he’d wanted to, but for his health.

“The surgeon tells me I’m the most bloody-minded, stubborn arse of a Scot she’s ever met, says my chances have got to be good.”

“She’s not wrong, you know.”

She can hear his smile. “I know.”

“I’m coming to London,” she says, her words a rush.

“Now, Miller—”

“No, don’t argue with me. Lucy has the boys, so I’m coming. I’ll not have you go in for something as serious as heart surgery without anyone there for you. Besides, someone’s got to provide bedside grape service.”

“Why in the world do you insist on bringing grapes to hospital I’ll never know.” His tone is dry. Then, all of a sudden, he seems to give up. “Alright, Miller, come if you have to. I’ll let the doctors know to expect you.” He gives her the name of his hotel and the room he’s staying in. She makes a mental note to see about getting her own room before she leaves Broadchurch.

“Right. Good. Thanks.” She expected to have to argue a little harder. He must really want her there. “I’ll see you soon, then. Don’t expire on me before I get there, I’ve already bought the tickets.”

He laughs again. “See you soon, Miller.”

****

-AE-

She gets to the hotel a bit late, worn from the journey. For the first time since her husband’s confession, she’s able to go more than a few minutes without thinking about it. Her thoughts still turn to Joe and Danny without her wanting them to, interrupting other considerations with brutal images or questions. But she’s able to push those thoughts away for a little longer while she considers Alec’s surgery. She doesn’t mind admitting that she’s concerned for him because Ellie has always been invested in other people’s wellbeing. She wonders if he is scared or resigned and also wonders why she suddenly thinks of him as “Alec” instead of the usual Hardy.

Probably because he could die tomorrow.

She shoves that away, but she remembers something else. Remembers Susan Wright’s terrible words: “Death gets its claws in you, it never lets go.”

She really needs a drink. Her hands are trembling. She casts her gaze around the lobby and then spots Hardy. He’s sitting alone at the bar, his long legs stretched out and his arms crossed on the bar, his head tipped back to catch the sports highlights on the telly in the corner.

“I hope you’re not drinking the night before your heart surgery,” she says as she joins him, climbing onto a barstool and peering at the empty glass in his hand.

“Not that you could blame me,” he replies, unperturbed by her scolding, “but no. It’s just water.”

She lets it go and orders herself a whiskey, earning herself an amusingly approving glance from Hardy. When she tips it back, he nods.

“Well done, Miller. Color me jealous,” he tells her. Then he orders himself a cuppa and insists on paying for her whiskey and the coffee that follows.

“Are you scared?” she asks him. He frowns down at the mug of tea in his hand and doesn’t answer for a long moment. So long, in fact, that she begins to think he won’t answer at all. She decides not to press him about it and fills her mouth with coffee before she can ask him another awkward question.

“Yes,” he says at last. He is so quiet that she leans over to hear him better. “I didn’t think I would be, but I am. A little.”

“Lucy’s willing to stay with the boys for a day or two, so…I’ll be here,” she tells him. He nods, his throat working. Then he covers one of her hands with his own and presses it to express his gratitude.

“I…left a voicemail for my daughter. Let her know about this. I don’t think she’ll be coming, but…I told her I love her.”

Ellie thinks of Tom and Fred and of how lucky she is that they are all still together. She has no idea what she’d do if someone turned her children against her, and her heart swells for the man beside her. He’s a tragic figure, a lonely figure, and the mother in her wants to reach out and fold him in her arms and tell him it will all be okay. It takes a conscious effort not to do so.

“Come on. Let’s talk upstairs,” he says, draining the last of his tea and getting to his feet. He offers his hand to steady her as she clamors off the bar stool, then leads the way to his room. It’s not an expensive hotel but it’s nice enough. His room is simple: a large bed in the middle and a desk near the window. A TV and DVD player and a small washroom. They sit side by side on the bed after he retrieves a water bottle from the mini-bar and puts on a pot of coffee for her. She doesn’t think she’ll sleep if she has another coffee, but it doesn’t occur to her to protest. She might not sleep anyway.

“Are you sure you want to come to the hospital tomorrow?” he asks her.

“I’m sure, Hardy.” Her tone is still: she brooks no argument.

“Right. They’ll give you my personal items. My clothes, wallet, mobile.”

She nods. It’s fine. They could put her in charge of singing monkeys, she doesn’t care. He’s not going alone tomorrow and that is final. He’s quiet for a long time after that, his arm brushing hers as he drinks the water. 

“Might be my last night.” He sounds…she doesn’t know how he sounds. Stumped, mostly, like he can’t come to terms with that fact. Perhaps he can’t. She can’t really come to terms with it either. It’s hard to picture a day where he won’t be there to frustrate her or grump at her or brood in the corner.

Or smile at her in that heartbreaking way of his.

“It won’t be,” she says, her voice ringing with confidence. He glances at her, his eyes all unreadable again, and nods.

“Thanks for being here, Miller.”

She shrugs, uncomfortable with the thick emotion pooling in the room.

“I’m your friend, Alec. Where else would I be?”

“Alec,” he repeats, and she remembers that he doesn’t like his name. She shoves him with her elbow gently.

“I’ll go back to sir, I swear I will.”

He chuckles and nudges her right back. “I guess I don’t mind it so much when you say it. Bloody awful name though.”

She shakes her head at him, feeling exasperated and…yes, affectionate. Affectionate wouldn’t be too strong a word for it. He’s grown on her, she could finally admit it.  
“You should get some rest,” she says, eyeballing the clock. He makes a face at her but doesn’t argue. She can see that he’s doubting whether or not he’ll be able to sleep. She has the same doubts. His fingers curl into the bedspread as if he needs something to hold on to. She pats his hand gently, and he surprises her by quickly flipping his palm up into hers and lacing their fingers.

“I mean it. Thank you for being here,” he tells her again, his eyes serious as he looks into hers. She waves it away with her free hand and he reaches up to brush his fingers over her cheek.

Something fills her chest, something she didn’t think she’d feel again after Joe. Something she has no intention of trying to name right this moment. She squeezes his hand.

“Sleep now,” she tells him, an order but a gentle one. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He stands but doesn’t release her hands, instead using their link to help her up. He walks to the door with her, still holding on, and she doesn’t try to tug her hand away.

He stares at her again. Then he leans down and kisses her cheek, lingering there for a moment, before he lets go of her hand and steps back.

“See you later, Miller,” he says, and she walks toward the elevator to head to her own room, her hand still warm from his.

She doesn’t sleep that night. She is pretty certain that he doesn’t, either.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

Despite hardly having closed her eyes all night, the morning comes quickly. Ellie takes a brisk shower, dabs on a bit of makeup, and then stares at herself in the mirror. 

“He’ll be fine,” she tells her reflection. She’s aware that she needs him in a way that isn’t healthy, but he’s become her rock in these last miserable few months, and she can’t ignore the fact that she’s nervous about what’s going to happen today.

She calls Lucy and talks to Tom and Fred, wishing them a good morning and promising to call again after the procedure is complete. Then it’s time to go.

She leaves her hotel room and heads down to the hotel lobby where she’s arranged to meet Hardy.

He’s already there, wearing a light sweater and slacks. His hair is still damp from his shower and he can’t stop moving. He’s shuffling his feet, shifting his weight, and he scratches at his beard. She’s seen him agitated before but this is different. Her heart goes out to him.

He glances up then, as if sensing her presence, and that intense gaze of his is focused right on her.

Always the staring, she thinks with a sigh. She gives him a wave and with a few long strides he is beside her.

“Right then. Shall we go?” he asks, as casual as though he’s asking her for a stroll along the beach. There’s a twitch in his cheek which gives away his nerves. She nods and they step outside to the waiting car. He doesn’t speak as they drive to the hotel. He stares out of the window at the passing city and after several silent moments, Ellie reaches over and takes his hand. He curls his fingers around hers and a long breath escapes him.

The cab stops outside of the hospital. Just before they get out, Hardy lifts their joined hands and brushes his lips over the back of hers. His whiskers brush over her skin and the sensations – his gentle lips and the bristles of his beard – make her shiver.

“Thank you, Ellie,” he tells her softly, his eyes on her again. He looks young, impossibly vulnerable. Her fingers tighten in his, but before she can reply, he releases her and climbs out of the car.

She follows him into the hospital and once he’s reported in, he hands over his insurance card and answers a few questions about his recent health. Then he is taken to the Pre-Op area. Ellie is left in a waiting room, feeling suddenly out of breath. It’s really happening. He’s really going to have heart surgery. It’s no stranger than anything else that has happened to her in the past few months, but it still seems odd to be here with her former boss, praying that he’ll pull through a procedure he hadn’t wanted in the first place.

After a few minutes, a nurse brings her Hardy’s personal items, including his clothing. She holds the garment bag in her lap, staring at the TV without seeing it. She notices that there’s a ring with his wallet and phone, and she’s certain it’s his wedding ring. He has never worn it in her presence, but he must carry it with him. This sentimentality from him is unexpected and touches her deeply. She has placed her own wedding ring in her jewelry box but she hasn’t looked at it since she removed it, and that had been the week after Joe’s arrest.

The walls of the waiting room are a soothing off-white, and there are lots of pamphlets and magazines strewn over the table in the center. She looks at them but can’t remember their titles or who is on the covers. She shifts and holds Hardy’s garment bag closer, feeling as though she’s far away from this place. She isn’t thinking about anything in particular for once…she’s too focused on this feeling of drifting to think about Joe or Danny or Beth or even Hardy. It’s all simply numb.

After a few more minutes, she’s allowed to join Hardy in his Pre-Op room. He’s in a hospital dressing gown and his legs look impossibly long sticking out the bottom of it. He’s all knobby knees and thin calves. His feet are bare and it strikes her suddenly that this is a very intimate way to see him. He is looking at her with those great big eyes of his and she knows he’s thinking the same thing.

He tries to alleviate the strange tension in the room.

“They shaved my chest, Miller. Do you believe that?” He tugs the hospital gown down at the neck until she can see the bare patch of skin over his heart. It does look funny, a bald spot in the dark hair that covers the rest of his chest, and the skin there is nearly as pale as the gown. A smile tugs at her lips as she looks at his chest, but then she sees where they’ve drawn on that skin with black marker.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, she reaches out and traces the line they’ve drawn over his heart. This is where they will cut him. He sucks in an unsteady breath as her fingertip makes contact, and he’s watching her face very closely.

She shivers when she thinks of him there on the table with his chest open, his heart exposed.

He lifts a hand and presses her palm against his heart. Her eyes lift to his face, and his expression is determined.

“You’ll not be rid of me like this, Ellie Miller,” he tells her. It’s as though he’s promising her.

“Better not be,” she shoots back, but she can feel her lip starting to go, and tears are stinging her eyes, and he makes a low, rumbling noise of protest.

“Don’t cry, come on now. It’s not as bad as all that. In a few hours you’ll be smuggling me some grapes and I’ll be demanding to be let out of here. You’ll see.” He sounds sure, but his eyes are a dead giveaway – he’s not nearly as certain as he is making himself out to be.

“If you die in there, I swear to God I will desecrate your body.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “I just bet you would.”

“Seriously, you’d have to have a closed casket. I’d be quite cross.”

Now he’s really smiling. “Best not die then.”

She tugs her hand out from under his and smacks his arm gently. He tugs her down to sit next to him and drops an arm over her shoulder. It’s strange, the weight of his arm, but he’s warm.

They sit that way, silently, until it’s time for the procedure.

She wishes him luck as they wheel him out, and he tells her he’ll be fine. And then there’s naught to do but wait. She settles down to it, suddenly thinking about his naked, knobby knees and the dark black line over his heart.

It is a long day.

**-AE-**

At some point, Ellie leaves the waiting room and walks to the cafeteria. She grabs some sort of salad (God she hates salad) and a cup of coffee. Though she doesn’t add anything to her coffee, she stirs it once she’s settled at the table, stirs it and watches a spiral form in the center of the cup. She can’t stop thinking about Hardy with his chest cut open. That image becomes tangled in with others, with Joe on the ground in the station while she kicked him and with Danny lying there in the sand.

She tries to control her thoughts because her vision is suddenly blurry with tears. Frustrated, she puts her hands over her eyes. She knows she must look like shit, with bags under her eyes and no color in her face, and she has just enough dignity left not to let others see her crying in a hotel cafeteria.

She thinks she should gather up Hardy’s things and go back to the waiting room, but she can’t summon the energy all of a sudden.

She brings herself back under control slowly, with long, even breaths. And finally she becomes aware that someone is staring at her.

Her eyes tip up slowly and she sees a girl staring at her, no older than Chloe Latimer. She’s tall and slim, with light hair and—

\--and Alec Hardy’s piercing stare.

Realization beings to dawn on Ellie as the girl walks over to her table, looking reluctant. She’s seen that same reluctance from Hardy on many, many occasions in the past.

“Excuse me,” the girl says as she stops near the table. She is skittish. “Are you…Ellie Miller?”

Seeing Ellie’s confusion at being recognized, the girl rushes on. “It’s only, I’ve seen you on telly. You worked with…you worked with my dad.”

“I am. Are you Daisy Hardy?”

Daisy nods, and Ellie thinks she must have her mother’s coloring. But there’s Hardy there too, in the way her eyes seem to look right into people.

“Dad said…well, in his message, he said there’s a chance he could…” Daisy trails off, unable to say that her father might die in the same way that Ellie can hardly bear to think it. She reaches out and catches Daisy’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She does it without thinking, a mother’s instinct, but Daisy doesn’t pull her hand away.

“He won’t,” Ellie said, willing that to be true.

“Anyway, mum wouldn’t come. She barely let me come. But I thought…just in case…someone ought to…”

“Here, sit. Do you like salad? I hate it so you’re welcome to it.” Ellie shoves the plastic container over. She knows that Daisy’s relationship with her father is strained, but she doesn’t know why. Hardy was never willing to speak about it. Still, it’s important that she’s here now. A good sign, Ellie thinks. Hardy will be very pleased to see her when his surgery is over.

“Are you friends?” Daisy hasn’t touched the salad but Ellie can’t blame her; she’s not hungry either.

“Yes,” Ellie replies, realizing suddenly that Hardy is her closest friend. It is such a strange thought that it gives her pause. But he’d been the first person she’d sought out for comfort after Joe had been arrested, and she still felt that he might be the only person who understood.

Daisy nods and doesn’t ask any more questions for a while, though Ellie thinks she must have plenty of them. Together they make their way back to the waiting room, and she decides to just start talking about her work with Hardy, answering Daisy’s questions without making the girl ask them.

“I hated him at first, you know. Your dad, I mean.” Ellie smiles a little and looks down at the garment bag she’s returned to her lap. Daisy looks up, and though her eyes are blue and not brown, that piercing gaze definitely mirrors her father’s.

“He took my job, just swooped right in while I was on vacation and suddenly I worked for him. And he was so…I dunno. Snobby.”

Daisy’s lips started curling into a smile. “Really?”

“Well, we all thought so at first. My boss put me with him for…for Danny.”

Slowly, Ellie tells the whole story. It’s not as painful as she had expected it to be, at least not until the end. And as she tells it, she realizes how Hardy had tried to shield her, to spare her the blow he knew was coming, to tell her as gently as was possible. She hadn’t really considered it before, and she thinks now that he bloody well get off of that table because she needs him to know that she knows what he’s done for her.

Daisy listens, laughing at the parts where Ellie describes their banter, quiet but attentive when it gets painful. It’s easy to talk to this girl, she has the same direct manner as her father, the same quick sarcasm and silent understanding.

She comes to the end and it’s a weight off, to have said it all out loud, all at once. Daisy processes it all, no doubt trying to picture her dad wandering around a tiny coastal town, getting under everyone’s skin. He had been relentless in his hunt for Danny’s killer, doggedly determined long after everyone else had started to lose hope.

That it had been Joe…her eyes filled with tears again. Her lack of sleep has really played with her emotional stability, and that has been shit lately anyway.

They lapse back into silence, Daisy unsure of what to say in face of Ellie’s obvious distress, and Ellie unable to speak through the lump in her throat as she thought of Joe…Joe being at the end of that long struggle, knowing the whole while that their lives were over.

But thank God for Hardy. She isn’t sure how she’s made it through except for that he had been there the whole time, constant and direct. It’s her turn to be there for him now.

**-AE-**

Word comes – at very long last – that Hardy is out of surgery. He’s unconscious but his vitals are strong, and the surgeon tells Ellie and Daisy that the worst of it is over. They have every reason to believe he will live as long as anyone.

Ellie is more relieved than she expected to be. She gives Daisy a hug and the girl’s arms come right around her waist. The young woman has been very scared but only just now lets the brunt of it show.

“Can we see him?” Ellie asks, and the surgeon promises to send a nurse when Hardy is settled into his recovery room.

The wait isn’t long but neither Daisy nor Ellie can sit still. Daisy stands, her eyes unfocused, while Ellie paces around her. Finally a nurse enters the room and leads them to Hardy.

He is still unconscious when they arrive in his room, and no matter what has transpired between father and daughter before now, Daisy goes right to his bedside and takes his hand. Ellie hangs back, arranging Hardy’s clothes and belongings on a chair. He looks pale and still, but his chest is moving with the rhythm of his steady breathing.

The sleepless night and long day are taking a toll on Ellie and she longs to put her head down and rest, but she won’t until he opens his eyes and tells her he’s okay.

Twenty minutes pass, ticking away endlessly. Then, finally, he stirs. His head moves against the pillow and his brow furrows as he fights his way into consciousness. Daisy stands to lean over him, her small hands still wrapped around his own larger one, and Ellie moves to his side as well though she’s not sure if she belongs there.

His eyes finally open and clarity comes slowly. They roam over the ceiling as he gets his bearings, and then he spots Daisy. The emotion that fills his eyes is so raw that Ellie looks away, feeling as though she’s tripped into something very private.

“Daisy? Am I dreaming?” he asks, his words all blurry at the edges. His voice is painfully hoarse. “Are you really here?”

Daisy is nodding, crying, and she turns her face into the hand that Alec cups over her cheek.   
“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” he’s whispering to her.

Ellie’s heart is pounding and she thinks she’d better slip out. She begins to shift toward the door, but her movements betray her presence, and Alec’s eyes turn to her next.

They are warm, warmer than she’s ever seen them. He is smiling, he can’t seem to stop smiling.

“Don’t go now, Miller,” he says, his tone light. She knows that waking up to his daughter’s face…waking up when he might not have ever opened his eyes again, to see the daughter he’s thought he’d lost…that is why he looks so happy. And she’s glad, so glad for him that her eyes are all full of tears again and she really wishes she could stop crying today.

He reaches for her with his other hand, wincing with the effort of reaching across his body, and she leans over to take it.

“I’ll just be in the hall,” she says, giving his fingers a light squeeze. “Let you two talk.”

He hesitates and then nods, and she slips away. As soon as she’s out of the door, she leans against the wall and covers her face with her hands. She’s seen a side of him now that she’s never seen before, seen warmth shining out of those normally brooding eyes.

“Oh, thank God. Thank God,” she breathes, knowing it would have been impossible to carry on without him.

She’s not in the hallway for long when Daisy comes to fetch her. She takes Ellie’s hand without hesitation, pulling her back into the room.

“Dad wants to see you,” she says, and Ellie follows her back to his bedside.

He looks tired now, his eyes lidded. The emotion of seeing his daughter again has worn him out, and Ellie knows a nurse will probably chase her out soon since she’s not family. But he reaches for her hand as she comes close enough, and she fits her palm against his.

“Ellie,” he says. “Thank you for being here.”

“Not a word of it,” she says, waving off his thanks with her free hand. She’s been doing that a lot lately, waving off his thanks, but she’s as out of practice at accepting gratitude as he is at expressing it. “Where else could I be?”

“Then in a hospital with me? I could think of a few places,” he says with a labored chuckle.

“I’ll have to bring you some grapes later,” she tells him. “There weren’t any in the cafeteria.”

“I’ll be sure to have a word with them about that,” he says, his eyes slipping closed. “I’ll have to be here for a day or two.”

“I know.”

“I know your boys need you.” He opens his eyes again with effort and looks at her. “I know you can’t stay.”

“No I…I do have to get back but I can stay for another night,” she tells him. He nods, grateful, and squeezes her fingers.

“Good.” He’s fighting hard not to sleep. “Good.”

“Rest now…Alec.” Calling him Hardy doesn’t seem right, considering the circumstances. Not when she can so clearly picture his knobby knees under the sheet covering his body. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He nods again and this time his eyes stay closed. She releases his hand and, after jotting down her phone number for Daisy, she says goodbye and heads toward the door.

“See you later, Miller,” Alec calls after her, and she smiles as she leaves.

**-AE-**

Now that the immediate crisis is over, Ellie misses her boys. She returns to her hotel room with some Indian take-away and eats her meal propped up in the bed. The TV is on and babbling at her, but she isn’t paying attention to the programming.

She calls her sister and assures Tom that Hardy is alright when he gets on the phone. She tells him that she misses him and his brother and he tells her that he misses her too, but in that shy way that lets her know that her son, her beautiful healthy boy, will be a teenager soon. These sappy calls from mum will very soon be unbearably uncool. But those years haven’t arrived yet, and she’s immensely glad for that.

The emotional toll of the day is heavy and she is exhausted. Her interactions with Hardy seem surreal now that’s she’s alone and knows that he’ll be okay. She blames it on the possibility of the surgery going badly, certain that it’s colored their actions together. That fear of death and Hardy’s joy at seeing his daughter as well, all of it mixed together and making them a bit more needy than normal, mostly her but Hardy too.

She feels a fool for letting it all get to her, but these days it doesn’t take much.

She takes another shower, a longer one this time. She lets the warm water and the steam soothe her. She then slips into a nightgown and falls deeply asleep.

For the first time in many, many nights, she does not dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We haven’t made it to Daisy’s appearance in the show on this side of the pond, so I’m not certain that her portrayal will be accurate to the canon character. I don’t plan on having her be a big part of the story, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to do a reunion and sort of soften up a few of Hardy’s rough edges.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope to see you back for chapter 4!


	4. Chapter 4

Ellie is up with the dawn. She walks down to a grocery store and buys a big bag of grapes, plus a muffin for herself. She eats her pastry on the way to the hospital. She feels better, less emotional, now that she’s slept.

She finds her way back to Hardy’s room, knocking before she enters. Her eyes go right to the patient. He’s sitting up in his bed, laughing at something his daughter is saying. He is still shockingly pale, but he seems to be fully awake. Tired, but aware.

“You’ve got some cheek, haven’t ya?” Hardy is saying, laughing with Daisy.

“Well I come by it honestly, don’t I? Between you and mum,” Daisy replies, and Ellie pauses in the doorway to take in the scene. It’s downright domestic.

“Oi, I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“Miller!” Hardy’s eyes turn to her and he motions her further into the room. “Not at all. Come in.”

Daisy rises to greet her, and Ellie appreciates her manners. She then drags a second chair to Hardy’s bedside and sits herself down in it.

“How are you feeling?” she asks him.

“I feel alright. Better. They’ll be keeping me through the night again, but then I should be released.”

Ellie nods and pulls the freshly purchased grapes from her bags, earning her a bark of laughter from Hardy and a slightly confused look from Daisy.

“I thought you were kidding about the grapes,” Hardy says.

“I’m always serious about grapes, sir,” she replies, and he groans something that sounds suspiciously like, “Not your boss.”

“Is there a story behind green grapes?” Daisy asks, and Ellie smiles.

“Your father, who has an infuriating habit of ignoring his health, got himself put in hospital in Broadchruch.”

“And Miller, who has an infuriating habit of playing mother hen, brought me a bag of grapes and told me off,” Hardy added.

Daisy is looking back and forth between them, and Ellie can tell that she’s puzzling something out. She’s seen the exact same look on Hardy’s face before.

“Bit of an inside joke, then,” she says, and there is a curiously knowing smile on her lips.

The three of them talk for a while. Daisy provides most of the conversation, and she is has a wit and sass to her that Ellie finds refreshing. Seeing Hardy with his daughter is educational for Ellie; he’s still gruff and awkward, but Daisy brings out the playfulness in him, and the naked affection on his face is a far cry from the usual dark-and-dour stares he usually affects.

She stays for most of the morning, satisfying a need to know that he is truly alright. He has a packet of information now with long and very specific instructions for his aftercare. Ellie is certain it says thinks like, “Avoid unnecessary stress or physical exertion for X days,” and she is equally certain that Hardy will ignore it entirely. Blasted man.

“Right then,” she says after a reluctant glance at the clock. “Time for me to be getting back to Broadchurch. Lucy’s probably tearing her hair out.”

She stands and Daisy rises too, surprising the older woman by giving her a hug.

“I’m glad to have met you. Thank you for taking care of my dad,” she says. Ellie scoffs.

“No one can take care of your dad. He’s too much of a knob.” Daisy’s laughter joins Hardy’s indignant protest.

“Oi, I can still hear you, Miller.”

She ignores him and gives Daisy’s hand a squeeze as she steps back. “I’m glad to have met you too. Make sure he doesn’t drag himself out of the hospital before the doctors say it’s alright.”

She then turns to Hardy, wondering why there’s such a finality to this moment. He’ll be back in Broadchurch soon, she knows that. He won’t leave the town before Joe’s been sentenced and this is all well and truly over. After that…she has no idea what his plans are. She’s been afraid to ask. But this certainly won’t be the last time she sees him. So why is it beginning to feel like it is?

“See you back in town?”

He nods. She knows he won’t leave London until Daisy does, but she can understand that.

“The hearing is on Monday,” she reminds him.

“I’ll be there. Thanks for the grapes, Miller.”

She nods and turns to Daisy one last time. “You can call me if he gives you any trouble. I doubt I’ll be able to do much with him either but there’s strength in numbers.”

Daisy promises to do just that.

“Right then. I’m off.” There doesn’t seem to be anything else to do or say.

“Goodbye, Ellie!” Daisy says, waving. Ellie gives her a smile and then looks to Hardy. His smile has slipped away and he’s been watching her the whole time. There are words in his eyes that he doesn’t give voice to, and she can’t for the life of her guess at what they might be. He chooses not to enlighten her.

“See you soon, Miller,” he says, so predictably that she could have said it with him. Still, it sounds like a promise and she’s grateful enough for that.

****

-AE-

She realizes on the train home that what she had been saying goodbye to was the strange intimacy of the situation. That is why it had all felt so final. The past two days had taken place in this tiny bubble universe, a pocket of the world where he needs her and Daisy more than anything else.

Hardy had seen her at her worse, but this is the first time the opposite had been true.

It all seems a bit weird now as the miles stretch between the two of them. At the time their closeness had seemed due to a natural progression of events. Now, as the train whisks her away from him, she can’t really believe that Alec Hardy and held her hand over his heart or gripped her fingers when he needed an anchor for his fears.

Her breath rushes out and she forces these thoughts away. She focuses instead on seeing her sons again, because that is a gift which she had taken for granted all too easily before Danny Latimer was killed. She has no intention of taking that gift for granted again.

****

-AE-

She tells herself that she isn’t waiting for Hardy to return. She’s even done a fairly good job of convincing herself that this is true until that illusion is shattered by a Scottish man on holiday. When she hears his brogue in town on Saturday afternoon while out shopping with her sons, her head whips up so fast it’s embarrassing. She sees her mistake and quickly looks away again, but Tom has noticed.

“Are you alright, mum?” he asks. “You seem jumpy.”

She’s sure she does. With less than 48 hours to go before she sees Joe in the dock, her nerves are stretched to the breaking. It doesn’t help that just walking down the high street has become fraught with peril again. Everyone in Broadchurch is on a knife’s edge, waiting for justice to be done. The events of the previous summer are thrown back into sharp relief as the moment of truth ticks closer, and that means that Ellie is under constant scrutiny again.

Even Olly can’t resist.

As they pass the newspaper offices, he barrels out of the door. She’s been grateful for Olly in the past weeks and months – he’s actually been quite helpful with the boys – but she knows exactly what he’s after this afternoon and it isn’t a family outing.

“Aunt Ellie! Aunt Ellie!” He only calls her that when he wants something. Her shoulders stiffen a bit and she hikes Fred up higher in her arms.

“No comment, Olly. Please.” Her voice is more pleading than she’d like it to be.

“Come on, Aunt El…you know I’d be fair. Let everyone here know that you want Joe to be punished for what he did just like everyone else.”

She absolutely cannot bear speaking about it. She shakes her head. “No, Olly.”

Olly shifts on his feet uncomfortably. “Thing is, well, Beth Latimer is sure that you knew about all of it and she’s been telling everyone. I think you should clear the air a bit. You’ve got to tell people that—”

She takes Tom’s hand and tugs him away again, shaking her head. Her nephew follows for a moment or two, still hoping that she’ll give him an exclusive (Wife of Child Killer Breaks Silence), but she doesn’t look back at him and he gives up and heads back into the headquarters of the Broadchurch Echo.

She’s sure it’s not the last she’ll hear of it. She makes a mental note not to accept any dinner invitations from her sister for the next…oh, decade or so. Otherwise Olly will use the opportunity to pester her to death.

He’s a good lad, just doing his job. But it’s still far too painful. And Lucy certainly hadn’t imbued him with an excess of tact.

Coming into Broadchurch proper this morning had been a mistake, she realizes that now. She should have gone a town or two over to get groceries, but there’s nothing for it now. She steers Tom toward home, thinking dark thoughts about throttling something.

****

-AE-

Sunday morning is unbearable, to put it mildly. Her stomach is knotted so tightly that she can’t even face a cup of coffee, much less food. But she fixes a proper breakfast for Tom and settles in to fight Fred about eating eggs. He’s a picky eater and it takes a lot of convincing. But she’s strangely glad for it: it keeps her thoughts away from the courthouse, from Beth Latimer’s accusing stares and the guilt that claws away at her.

She thinks she’ll feel guilty for the rest of her life.

No time for that now, she tells herself firmly, scooping the last of Fred’s eggs into his mouth. She washes up and sets up a movie for Fred. She doesn’t want to let Tom run off on his own, especially not considering the hearing tomorrow, but she can tell he’s chomping at the bit. She lets him go off with a few other boys from school after he promises to text her every so often.

Now it’s just her and Fred. She sits on the couch with him and lets the familiar plot of the movie steamroller any harder thoughts. It is almost working.

Then Olly knocks on her door. Hackles rising, she opens the door. Honestly, she isn’t sure who turned him on to reporting but she’d like to have a word with them…and maybe put her foot up their arse.

“Haven’t I said no comment? Christ, Oliver, this is the last thing I need today!”

“Look, I’m coming to you now as a sympathetic ear. You know how the others will be when you show up at the courthouse tomorrow. They’ll be shoving cameras in your face and asking you how you could sleep next to a child-killer. Let me tell your story before they make one up for you, eh?”

She can hear her back teeth grinding. “No, Olly.”

He’s going to argue the point, but just as he opens his mouth, another voice cuts in.

“Oi, Oliver. You heard her. Piss off.”

Olly twists around and he and Ellie catch sight of Hardy at the same time. Behind him, the car he’d hired to drop him off waits to collect her nephew.

There isn’t a lot of heat behind Hardy’s words. Sure, there’s no love lost there, but Ellie knows that Hardy had eventually given Olly an exclusive which even the Herald had coveted. Still, Hardy stares at the younger man and it’s very clear he isn’t joking.

Olly hesitates, then backs off of Ellie’s front doorstep and walks toward the waiting car.

Then that gaze of his turns to her, and she steps aside to let him into her home without another word.

****

-AE-

“How are you?” she asks as they come to a halt in her kitchen. Cartoon voices drift to them from the other room, and Ellie positions herself in a way that allows her to monitor Fred. Hardy leans against her counter with a shuffle of his shoulders.

“Well, you know doctors. They just about put me in a glass jar in order to ‘preserve my health.’ But I’m alright so long as I take it easy.”

“So you’re screwed then,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never met a man less likely to take it easy.”

He makes a face at her which his mostly a tightening of his lips and eyes but doesn’t protest. She’s right and he knows it.

“I didn’t come here to talk about my heart,” he says.

“Well, what did you come here for then? You had to know I’d ask. And how’s Daisy?”

His eyes soften at the mention of his daughter. “She’s good. She’s back with her mum, but I got to spend the day with her yesterday. It was good.”

“Will you see her again soon?’

His eyes flicker away from hers, all softness gone. “I don’t know.”

Silence descends. Neither seems sure of how to continue this conversation after their earlier closeness. She’s about to give up and go sit with Fred – when Hardy speaks up again.

“Listen, no matter what happens tomorrow…I’ll be there, alright? You won’t be alone.”

A shiver runs down her spine. It’s good and well of him to say so, but Ellie knows that alone is exactly what she’ll be. Joe will be on the dock, and not even Hardy will be able to stop everyone from whispering about how she must have known, must have at least suspected…

“Thanks for saying,” she murmurs.

Hardy straightens away from the counter and forces her to meet his gaze. “I mean it. I’ll be with you through every step of it.”

 _And after? Where will you be then?_ She doesn’t ask the question because she isn’t sure she’s ready for the answer.

“I promise, Miller,” he says. These words are the ones that sink in, and Ellie finally relents. She nods and says thank you, and offers him a drink.

To her great surprise, he watches a good portion of the cartoon with her son while he waits for a cab to take him home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to ask that you please indulge the court room scene, I borrowed pretty much all of it from S2 Ep1. If I’ve made a mistake in the court bit, that’s on me. Please feel free to correct me on the particulars. After this scene, the story turns away from the events of Season 2 again.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me and I sincerely hope you enjoy Chapter 5! I know it’s kind of a slow burn of a story but it’ll be worth it!

Monday morning comes despite her fervent wishes for it not to, and Ellie wakes before her alarm goes off. Her dreams have been full of painful memories and she’d woken during the night several times. She lies in her bed and stares at the ceiling and wonders what it will feel like when she sees Joe again. There’s no way to avoid seeing him, unless she skips the hearing entirely. But she can’t skip the hearing. She needs closure on this as much as anyone.

She hauls herself out of bed and into the shower. Her clothes are ready for her, hanging in the closet and freshly pressed. She dresses carefully, taking her time. It’s both a stalling tactic and a way to armor herself. She’ll be damned if anyone in this town sees her crack in that courtroom.

She heads down to the kitchen and puts on a pot of coffee. She has about twenty minutes before the sitter comes to watch Tom and Fred. Enough time to have one cup of coffee and appreciate the silence.

She sits at the table and wraps her fingers around her steaming mug, taking long slow breaths. There’s no avoiding the sight of Joe or the Latimers today, so she tries to fortify herself now.

The sitter arrives just on time. After that, she can’t avoid what’s coming any longer.

She steps out of her house, hesitating there for a long moment. Her fingers linger on the doorknob. She could go back in. No one would blame her. Well, no one that wasn’t blaming her already.

A warm hand closes gently over her shoulder.

“Morning, Ellie,” he says. His voice is soft. She turns and looks up into Hardy’s eyes and they are fathomless. He is offering her, without words, the strength that she doesn’t have on her own. Her fingers fall away from the doorknob. He gives her shoulder a squeeze and they walk to her car.

On the way to the court house, he hands her over hardboiled eggs and a banana, correctly guessing that she’d hadn’t bothered to eat. She makes a face as he passes them to her, but he’s firm.

“You’ve got to eat, Miller. You’ll need the energy.”

He’s right. Damn him. She accepts the food with a quiet thank you. They don’t speak for a while, both of them thinking of what’s coming in the next few hours. Though her nerves are jangling, she’s grateful that he’s here…she might not have made it this far without him.

“How long were you out there this morning, waiting for me?”

A muscle twitches in his cheek. “Just eat your breakfast,” he says, and he is quiet after that.

She parks and finishes the eggs and banana. It’s not what she normally would have gone in for, breakfast-wise, but it’s not too hard on her uneasy stomach. Beside her, Hardy scans the front of the court house from the passenger seat. His jaw is set in that determined way of his. He glances at her and gives a nod, and they both get out of the car and head for the entrance.

There aren’t as many reporters as she was expecting. They are, however, fresh off of their feeding frenzy after the Latimers walked through them, and they rush over as soon as they realize that Ellie Miller and Alec Hardy are approaching next.

They’re shouting questions at her. Hardy is calling them a pack of bloody vultures, allowing her to keep silent and stare directly ahead. They break free of gaggle as they enter the court house, and her shoulders sag for a moment with the relief to be through that first trial. She’s seen Olly with the rest of them, but he had hung back and simply watched as she and Hardy waded through.

She feels grateful for that. She may have been a bit hard on him the day before.

Her thoughts aren’t allowed to linger with her nephew for long, however, because many people from town are there and they are all gazing at her. The Latimers, thankfully, have already made their way to the courtroom, but Ellie sees Paul Coates and Becca Fisher. Her sister, Lucy. Nige Carter and Maggie Radcliffe too.

Hardy doesn’t pay a single one of them any attention at all. Instead, he escorts her through the security line and then up the stairs to the courtroom. He stays near her, dropping his hand to her back and gently steering her on when she hesitates. Others follow, but no one approaches her directly.

Thank God for Alec.

He gets them into the courtroom and puts himself between her and the dock as they settle into seats. He can’t shield her from Joe and the Latimers at the same time, but she’s glad he’s made the choice he has. Beth’s suspicions hurt, but not as much as seeing Joe again.

“Well done,” Hardy tells her, slicing through those thoughts.

She nods and looks around the room, her eyes touching on former friends and neighbors. Then she gazes down at her hands in her lap. He touches her arm gently, then settles in to do what he does best: observe people. His eyes seem to be taking in everyone, but he doesn’t share his observations with her as the courtroom finally settles.

Everyone is murmuring and looking around. Ellie can see that Paul and Becca enter the courtroom together and it finally dawns on her that they are romantically involved. The old Ellie would have been very interested to find out just how that had happened…just when Paul had worked up the courage to ask Becca out or vice versa. The new Ellie notices it but can’t spare a thought about it. Maybe later, but not now.

She looks over at Beth, wondering how she is, if she’s doing alright. Beth catches her gaze and turns her head away. Her shoulders square as if she might armor herself against Ellie’s presence. Ellie drops her eyes again. She misses her friend but it’s hard to see a way back now…she thinks maybe too much damage has been done. The guilt rears up again, and she takes a deep breath to control herself.

“All rise!”

Everyone climbs to their feet and Ellie feels her stomach drop. Beside her, Hardy is standing tall, his eyes moving slowly around the room as the judge approaches his chair. Ellie’s heart starts thumping faster because she knows what comes next.

The Court Manager waits until everyone is seated again. He then proceeds in clear voice. “All parties in the case of Joseph Miller.”

She can’t look. She can’t. Her heart is pounding so hard she’s sure everyone can hear it. She knows Joe is entering the dock and if she looks now she’ll be lost…but then Hardy’s shoulders hike up infinitesimally and she knows Joe is looking at her. Her head turns almost of its own volition, and she looks at her husband for the first time in many long weeks.

He is staring at her. For a second, her heart freezes. Then she jerks her gaze away and tells herself not to look again. Hardy shifts, blocking Joe’s view of her, and the Court Manager continues on.

“Are you Joseph Michael Miller?”

Joe’s voice is thick. All eyes are on him, all eyes except for Ellie’s and Hardy’s. Ellie is looking at the judge and Hardy is looking at her, she can feel it. She can see the open hostility on everyone’s faces as they stare at her husband and she curls her fingernails into her palms. She can’t blame them. The thought of him makes her hostile too.

“Yes,” Joe replies.

“Joseph Michael Miller, you are charged with murder contrary to common law. The particulars of the offense are that on the 18th day of July, 2013 you murdered Daniel Latimer of Four Spring Close, Broadchurch, Dorset. How do you plead?”

There is a slight pause and Ellie can feel the tension in the room peaking. This is what everyone, herself included, has been waiting for since the moment Hardy announced that he had confessed and had been arrested. Many people have leaned forward in their chairs, waiting to hear Joe admit his guilt and finally end this nightmare.

He disappoints them.

“Not guilty,” he says.

That’s the last thing Ellie remembers hearing clearly. Outrage erupts throughout the room, but she can’t hear anything except her own thundering heart and a loud ringing in her ears. She feels like she is drowning, like she can’t breathe.

She hears her husband repeat his plea of “Not guilty,” and then the judge calls for a recess. She scrambles out of the room as fast as she can, sucking in breaths like she can’t get enough air. Hardy chases her out of the room, grabbing her arm and steering her away just as the Latimers burst out. She knows he’s trying to avoid a confrontation with them but her legs refuse to move correctly. They feel like string. Still, he manages to pull her out of the courthouse and tucks them into a small nook in the architecture of the building.

“Breathe, Ellie. Just breathe.” His hands are on her shoulders and he’s looking into her wild eyes, trying to determine if she’s about to pass out or not.

“Oh God, what’s he doing?” She doesn’t recognize her own voice as the tears finally come, a warm flood pouring down her cheeks. She grips Hardy’s forearms in order to keep her balance. “Oh Jesus…Alec…I thought it was finally going to be over.”

He doesn’t say anything. It’s not his way to speak words of comfort when they aren’t true. Instead he steadies her, doesn’t say a word as her fingernails dig into the sleeves of his suit while she struggles for to regain equilibrium. His expression is grim as he watches her wrest back control of herself.

When the worst of it passes, he puts his hand on her back again and leads her to a coffee cart. She keeps her head down and lets him steer her. He presses a warm cup into her hands and stands near her, the pure thunder in his eyes keeping even Olly away. It won’t last forever; she knows that sooner rather than later she’ll have to face everyone. But for now Alec keeps it all at bay. It is the only thing that gets her through the rest of that God-awful day.

**-AE-**

She doesn’t remember later who had the idea to go to the pier. Somehow, however, that is where they end up. She walks beside Hardy in silence, trying to absorb the events of the day. Though the sunset is spectacular, she hardly notices it. She shoves numb hands into her jacket pockets and stares out over the sea as they drift to a stop. Hardy leans against the banister, lacing his fingers together as he stares at the cliffs.

“This is going to kill Mark and Beth. And Tom.” Ellie thinks she could happily kill Joe for putting them all through this. Something in the back of her mind whispers that she shouldn’t think this way, but she can’t help it. Hardy nods, and she can tell he is thinking hard about the entire situation.

“Not sure why he would want a full trial,” he says. “There’s a strong case against him.”

His tone speaks volumes: it’s clear that he is disgusted by Joe’s refusal to accept punishment for what he did. Finally he looks at her, and his gaze is gentle as he studies her face.

“Will you be alright?” he asks.

“Sure, so long as I don’t murder him myself.” She’s kidding. Sort of. Neither of them laugh.

“None of this is your fault.”

He’s done it again, cut straight through all the emotional entanglements right to the heart of the matter. She is terrified that somehow all of this is on her. She’s always felt like she should have known, and she’s never forgiven herself. She doesn’t think she ever could forgive herself. Not after sleeping next to Joe for weeks, not after loving him so completely in her ignorance.

“I know,” she says. She doesn’t know any such thing. She doubts Hardy is fooled, but he doesn’t insist. At least, not yet.

He feeds her again – he insists, although the thought of eating makes her stomach roll over – and then takes her home.

**-AE-**

He sits Tom down at the kitchen table. Then, looking into her son’s eyes in that soft, grave way of his, he explains that Joe had pleaded not guilty and that there would be a trial. He asks that Tom not pay attention to the news and insists that he let the staff at school know if the other kids give him trouble. He also requests that Tom come to him if things get bad.

Through it all, Alec speaks to him with respect, treats him as the man of the house, and Ellie is moved by it to the point of speechlessness.

She busies herself with making tea for them all until she can speak without a lump in her throat. Her phone rings and it’s Lucy, hoping that she’s alright. Ellie doesn’t answer it, but she’s grateful that her sister is trying. She makes a mental note to return the call in the morning. Right now she just wants to be at home with her sons. It’s the only thing that soothes the pain of the day.

Hardy watches telly with Tom while Ellie puts Fred down. He lingers until Tom goes to bed too. Then he finally stands. It’s clear he stayed to make sure she’s okay, and she thinks it’s a little funny how quickly the tables have turned from her caring for him to him caring for her.

He glances around the room, looking for a graceful way to bow out for the night. He hesitates, then says, “I should go,” at the exact moment that Ellie bursts out with, “You could stay here.”

They stare at each other as her words sink in. She isn’t sure where they came from and her hand flutters up to her chest.

“It’s only…I just…” She is searching to put this need of hers into words, but they won’t come, and his eyes are locked onto her face as he tries to read between the lines.

“It’s alright,” he says, sparing her from having to say more. “I’ll stay.”

She disappears, rushing upstairs to grab up some sheets and a pillow to make him a bed on her sofa. This gives her a second to contain her embarrassment at the frank request she’s just made. What the hell was she thinking? She rubs the bridge of her nose and then scoops up the linens and carries them back to the sofa. No point in trying to rationalize it after he’s already gone and agreed.

He thanks her for the bed and reminds her that they’ll have to stop by his flat so he can change in the morning. Then he settles down onto the sofa and wishes her a good night.

She heads to her room and changes for bed and tries to get used to the idea that he’s out there. She thinks she won’t sleep at all, but eventually she does in fact succumb to her exhaustion.

In her dreams, Joe is standing on the beach where they found Danny. He has Fred propped up on his hip and he’s holding Tom’s hand. He is begging her to forget about the murder. To come home where they were happy and to be a family again. She can hear his voice so clearly. But in the end, a tall figure comes across the beach. It is Hardy, and he stands between her and Joe and calls for the boys.

She wakes up then, still seeing the fabric of Hardy’s jacket as he shields her from her husband. It is too early to get up, and she drifts at the edge of consciousness for a while, wondering why it was that Hardy made her feel safe.

Then she’s asleep again, and this time she doesn’t wake until proper morning.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as an aside, though Joe will be on trial during this story, I probably won’t spend much time in the courtroom. This is mostly because I only have a vague idea of how court proceedings work, and even less of a clue about the differences between US criminal trials and British criminal trials. I’ll probably write a scene or two but I’ve got my research cut out for me, so I’ll probably be sticking to the fall-out more than the trial itself.

It’s early, very early, when she wakes again. She knows she won’t go back to sleep and spends a few minutes just staring at her ceiling. She’ll have to go back to the courthouse today, but this time she feels a little more prepared for it than she had the day before. She’s sure it will still be torture, but she knows what to expect this time.

And there is, of course, Hardy.

She slips into her thickest robe, knotting it tightly. Then she slips down the hall to make a pot of coffee. She’s hoping he’ll still be asleep because she still feels a bit silly for having asked him to stay, and she needs at least one cup of coffee before she’s ready to face him.

No such luck, however.

He’s awake, sitting up on her sofa. His shirt is off and there’s a bottle of pills next on the end table. He hasn’t bothered with a light. His gaze is on the bandaging over his chest, and she realizes that he’s been checking his stitches. He’s been too stubborn to let people see how he’s been favoring his left arm, but she can see how stiff it is now. She can see the muscles flex in his shoulders as he moves his left arm in small circles. His face is tight with pain, but it relaxes a little once he shifts his arm into a more natural position and rolls his head back. His neck cracks a bit and suddenly she’s feeling terribly guilty that she made him sleep on a couch.

All at once, he is aware of her presence. She isn’t sure how; she hasn’t made any noise or even moved from where she stopped to observe him. But all the same, he turns and looks at her over his good shoulder. His eyes are large and dark in his face, endless pools.

“Erm. Morning,” she says. Her feet shuffle awkwardly.

“Hmmm…” He seems to consider that. He stands and pulls his shirt back on, buttoning it up almost but not quite all the way. He’s still wearing his slacks; he must have slept in them, but he’s removed the belt.

“Coffee?” she asks.

“Better stick with tea,” he replies, and she unglues her feet from the floor and walks to the kitchen. He follows her, a sleepy shadow, and watches as she puts on the kettle and starts up the coffee pot.

“How’s your heart?”

“Still working.” His lips twist a little. “Hurts like the bloody dickens, but working.”

They lapse into silence again once the drinks are made, each coming to terms with the new day on their own. Then she slips away to shower and dress. It should be profoundly odd to have him present for her normal morning rituals, and in a way it is. What is more unsettling to her is that it isn’t nearly as odd as it should be. Perhaps that’s because he’s so unobtrusive, so quiet.

She finishes pulling on her clothes and thinks she’d better wake up the kids and get them ready to go to their Aunt Lucy’s house, but as she leaves her bedroom she can hear both of their voices coming from the kitchen.

She braces herself for chaos because she knows that Tom and Fred can be a lot for anyone to handle, especially alone, but she’s underestimated Hardy again. He seems perfectly at ease with Fred, who is propped in his lap and tugging gleefully at his loosely knotted tie. Every time he pulls, Hardy makes a funny face at him. In between faces, he and Tom are talking about football. Tom is trying out for the team at school and Hardy is telling him about his football days, back when he’d been Tom’s age.

Of course he’s done all this before. He raised a daughter. But it’s still a surprise to see him being so easy with her children. He’s much more relaxed with her boys than she’s ever seen him with an adult. She wonders if maybe, before Sandbrook, he had been more like this: more open and friendly. Happier. She had always just assumed that he had been gruff and standoffish since birth (even as a child; in her mind’s eye, young Hardy is just a miniature version of himself, suit and all, with the same grumpy look on a five-year-old face), but perhaps that was a more recent development.

She makes a little noise as she approaches this time, announcing her presence. She goes right to the kitchen table and wraps an arm around Tom and he gives her a still-sleepy smile. Then she comes over to kiss Fred’s forehead, brushing his curls back from his face. She wonders if she should take him, but Hardy seems comfortable enough. She uses the opportunity to make toast and eggs, and this time she’s the one that insists Hardy eat.

Then it’s time to get the boys to Lucy’s and Hardy home to change.

She is aware that they look like some absurd parody of a family as they drive into Broadchurch. Hardy doesn’t get out of the car when they get to her sister’s house, but Lucy strolls over to the car and forces him into a conversation Ellie is sure he’d been hoping to avoid. She’s too busy getting Fred out of his car seat to be much help in deflecting Lucy’s curiosity but she tries to hurry through so Hardy doesn’t have to be interrogated for too long.

“Didn’t expect to see you,” Lucy says, and Ellie is suddenly certain that her sister has made some sort of bet about the nature of her relationship with her former boss, probably with Olly. For the first time, she understands Hardy’s frustration with the lack of privacy in this tiny town.

Hardy merely inclines his head a bit. “Ellie’s giving me a ride. Favor. I’m not to drive for a while.”

Lucy arches a brow and a small smile crosses her lips. She’s taking in his rumpled suit and disheveled hair and it’s obvious she doesn’t believe a word out of his mouth. Ellie rushes around the car to intervene.

“That’s quite enough from you,” she tells her sister as she hands over Fred. “Tom has a project to complete for school. It was due today but his teacher is letting him turn it in tomorrow so please make sure it gets done. And Fred goes down at two…”

“El, I’ve watched the kids before.” Lucy waves a hand. “We’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

Ellie doesn’t answer that question. She doesn’t really know yet. She gives Tom and Fred both a quick kiss goodbye.

“Bye, Mister Hardy,” Tom calls, waving, and then Lucy and the boys disappear into the house. Ellie climbs back into the car and continues through town to his tiny flat.

He lets them in and offers her a seat before disappearing into the bedroom to change. She looks around, taking in his belongings. He’s pretty neat for a bachelor, but there are little piles everywhere: a bit of mail, a scattered case file she is certain is from Sandbrook. There are several books by the couch and a surprisingly comprehensive collection of music. There’s only one picture and it’s of him and Daisy. It’s clearly old and she hardly recognizes him in it. He looks so young, and his eyes are bright, and he’s clean-shaven. He’s wearing a T-shirt of all things, and his arm is around his daughter. She can’t be more than ten in the photo, and they are at some sort of festival or fair.

He comes back out of his bedroom just a few minutes later. He’s had a quick shower and is in a fresh suit. His hair is a bit damp and it curls ever so slightly at the back of his neck. He moves past her into the small kitchenette and gets a glass of water to take a few more pills.

“For the pain?” she asks, and he nods.

“I’m fine,” he tells her once he’s finished taking the medication.

She scrunches up her face. “I’m sorry, Hardy – you should be recovering right now and not spending the night on my old sofa without your pills or—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Miller—I’ve slept on a couch before. I’m perfectly alright.” He pauses and makes a face at her. “Though…you’ve got the most uncomfortable sofa in Britain.”

It works. She forgets all about his recovery and gapes at him, indignant. “I have not! That is a wonderfully comfortable couch, it was my mother’s couch!”

He eyeballs her, amused. “Questionable taste runs in the family, I see.”

“Oh, you cheeky bastard—!”

“We’ll be late for court,” he says, a grin tugging up the corners of his mouth. Of course she’s chosen the world’s most annoying man as a best friend…trust him to find her outrage amusing.

Still, she’s in a decent mood all the way to the courthouse, her terror from the morning before temporarily forgotten as they continue to bicker over the sofa.

Then she catches sight of the reporters.

There had been a modest grouping of them yesterday, mostly journalists from the local news outlets. But now there were dozens of them, some of from national outlets, and Ellie can feel all the blood drain from her face.

“Oh Christ, look at them all,” she breathes, frozen in her tracks for a moment.

Hardy’s jaw tightens. There’s no way around them. They have to push through. And they’ll be waiting for Ellie just as much as the Latimers.

“Nothing for it,” he tells her, his voice tight. “We’ll have to go right through the middle.”

“I don’t think I can. _Look_ at them all…”

“Let’s just get through it.” He starts forward and she follows a half-step behind him, feeling extremely reluctant. They make it several feet closer before the first of the reporters recognizes them.

“Mrs Miller!” They’re all shouting for her and her blood is ice in her veins. But Hardy is ready; his right arm comes up around her shoulders and he pulls her halfway into him, shielding her face. She can’t see where she’s going, but Hardy keeps her moving forward. She’s close enough to smell the soap on his skin, and the pleasingly masculine deodorant he uses. All she can see is the fabric of his dress shirt and suit coat, and she can feel his warmth against her arm where she’s pressed against him.

Then they’re through, his arm slipping off of her shoulders as they take their places in the security line.

“Bastards,” he growls under his voice. His eyes come to her face, studying her shaken expression. “Alright there, Miller?”

“Yeah, I just…I should have expected…”

“Pay them no bloody mind,” he tells her.

She nods but his gazes at her for several moments longer before he’s satisfied that she truly is alright. Then there’s nothing left but to head to the courtroom. After the outrage of the day before, the judge had dismissed everyone. Today the trial would be scheduled…and Joe would, perhaps, be released on bond until it commenced.

She couldn’t imagine it, but she had no control of the situation. She could do nothing but sit beside Hardy, try not to meet Beth’s glares, and wait to see what the judge deemed appropriate.

**-AE-**

In the end, Joe is kept in custody for his own protection. The trial is scheduled to start in a few weeks. Summons to witness would be sent and solicitors arranged. The day passes very briskly, with none of the outbursts of the day before. Still, Ellie feels drained as she leaves with Hardy in tow.

“Can you have alcohol yet?” she asks him. He gives her a thoughtful look.

“Probably not.”

“Well, you never listen to your bloody doctors anyway. Let’s get a drink.”

He looks a little shocked – after all, Ellie is always hounding him to take better care of himself – and he’s flabbergasted enough at her that it doesn’t occur to him to argue. Which means that twenty minutes later they’re in a booth at a bar, and she’s put in an order for two whiskeys, doubles no less.

Hardy is still staring at her like she’s gone a bit mad.

“I’m getting well and truly pissed tonight,” she warns him after texting Lucy to see if the boys can spend the night.

“Miller…” He wants to warn her off of it, she knows it, but she shuts him down with one look.

“Don’t you dare argue with me. Not after the past two days,” she growls at him, and he sits back in his seat with a resigned look.

“This should be interesting,” he mumbles as the whiskey arrives. She ignores him and tips it back. Tonight, at least, she’s going to forget.

**-AE-**

Hardy switches from whiskey to lager after that first shot. He is drinking at a far more modest pace than Ellie. As the night progresses and she relaxes for the first time in what feels like months, he goes from stoic resignation to bemusement to reluctant enjoyment. Ellie is a slightly sloppy but cheerful drunk, and she can feel the stress leaving her body as the alcohol takes hold. Hardy is looking a little more relaxed than normal too, and once he stops chiding her, he actually isn’t terrible company.

“You’ve been really great. Really. Great with me and the kids I mean, and the case, and—”

“Let’s just leave all that for now, shall we?” He is watching her move along to the music that’s playing. Suddenly she gets up. She wants to dance. She hasn’t danced in such a long time, since just before Fred was born…

Her thoughts trail off incoherently.

“Be right back,” she tells Hardy/Alec (she can’t decide what to call him in her drunken state), and she slips out of the booth and onto the dancefloor.

At first she dances by herself, carried away by the music and in no particular need of a partner. Eventually, however, some bloke moves in and dances with her. She goes along with it, not out of any particular interest in the man, but simply because it’s easier to dance with someone. He’s polite enough, keeps his hands away from any inappropriate areas, and they dance together for a while.

She glances over at Hardy every now and then, just to make sure he hasn’t left her in the bar. He hasn’t. He’s waiting for her at their booth, watching over the rim of his beer. His expression is blank but his big, dark eyes never leave her.

When she’s finally tired, she thanks her dance partner and starts back toward the booth. The guy stops her and asks for her number, and she surprises herself by giving it to him.

She’ll never answer his calls or texts, she knows that even in her compromised state, but it’s nice to be asked.

She flops back into the booth and she can tell Hardy’s just about hit the limits of his patience for the night.

“Ready to head home?” he asks, and she nods. She’ll feel silly about all of this later, but she had needed this more than she’d realized.

He stands and helps her out of the booth, and she slips away to the bathroom while he settles the tab.

When she wobbles back to him, there’s a woman at his side. She’s a pretty girl, taller than Ellie is and with lighter hair. Her hand is on Hardy’s arm, and he’s chatting with her – or attempting to. Ellie can see his slight discomfort even from here. It’s clear he has no idea what to do with the attention, but he must like it a little bit, or he’d have blown her off.

Ellie hangs back, watching the exchange curiously. She somehow hadn’t expected Hardy to get hit on, but why wouldn’t he? He’s tall and handsome and even the thick scruff adds a bit of mystery to him. He’s clearly a broody sort, but some women like that kind of thing. She has never considered him in quite this way before, he’d always somehow slipped her notice as a man. He’d always been her boss and just recently her friend, but she’s never really observed him as a single male.

He gently refuses the woman’s number, looking awkward in the face of her obvious disappointment, and Ellie decides to save the day by approaching them.

“All settled?” she asks him, smiling banally.

“Yes – but you’re buying the chips next time,” he tells her. He says goodnight to the woman he’d been speaking to, and as he and Ellie walk out into the fresh night air, she looks at him with both eyebrows raised and a wide smile on her lips.

“Well…you made an impression,” she says, teasing. He glares at her, but his heart isn’t in it: he looks almost embarrassed behind his affected indignity.

“She would have thought better of it in the morning,” he tells her. “Besides, who’s got time for all that…that…” He waves a hand, seeming to indicate the entire practice of casual flirtation. Ellie bursts out laughing at the look on his face. He looks the same way Tom does whenever she mentions girls.

“All this time I was thinking you were lonely…” She is struggling to get the words out between giggles. “Turns out you didn’t have to be at all, you’re a regular lady killer. Well done, sir!”

His slightly horrified expression sends her into another fit of laughter as he steers her to the cab he’s phoned for.

She giggles off and on the entire way home. Alec gets her into her house and settles her onto the sofa, tucking her into the very same sheets he’d slept in the night before. She bids him a blurry goodnight and watches him leave.

It has been a surprisingly good night after two absolutely shit days. She knows it won’t last, but she’s happier than she’s been in weeks, and she can already tell there will be no more dreams tonight.

She sends him two text messages before she passes out. The first: **Thanks for drinks still think youre a wanker but it was fun.**

The second: **I think I’d better get a divorce.**


	7. Chapter 7

Not that she will tell it to him in a million years, but Ellie has to admit that Hardy has a point about her sofa. The cushions are pretty saggy and her neck is pretty damn sore now that she’s awake.

It’s not as sore as her head, however.

She moans as she becomes conscious enough to register the sunlight on her eyelids. She knows if she opens her eyes it will feel like someone is shoving daggers right into her frontal lobe, so she turns her face further into the throw pillow under her instead.

What the hell had she been thinking, going to a bar? Going to a bar with Alec _bloody_ Hardy?

She pulls the sheets up over her head and tries to will herself back to sleep. Sleep is the only way to soothe the sea-sick feeling she has, which is what over-indulging in whiskey always does to her. A little more sleep and she’ll be fine, she thinks…

But then her front door opens and her sister wanders in, far too cheery for Ellie’s liking.

“Brought your little chap back. Tom’s off to school.” Lucy takes stock of her sister’s sleeping situation, and she chuckles as she pokes at Ellie who is, at the moment, just a lump under a sheet.

“Ugh, don’t. I’ll be sick all over your shoes,” she groans, peeking out at Lucy with a grimace.

“You did have fun last night, didn’t you?” Lucy’s eyebrow is arched in that extremely annoying way. It’s like she’s having some private joke at Ellie’s expense. Ellie has always hated that eyebrow thing, ever since they were kids.

Ellie doesn’t answer her, but she hauls herself up into a seated position. Fred reaches for her with a happy squeal which warms her heart but doesn’t do much for her headache. She takes her son from Lucy.

“Do you mind not looking at me like that?” she asks, her hangover fueling her snark.

Lucy is all innocence. “Like what?”

“Like you’re the cat caught the canary. What are you smiling like that for anyway?”

“Oh, I dunno. Because of _that_ , maybe.” Lucy points to the belt hanging over the arm of the couch where Ellie’s feet had been just moments before. Ellie follows her finger, sees the belt, and feels her stomach roll again. Oh God, of _course_. _Of course_ Lucy’s assuming she’s had a shag, and _of course_ it would be bloody Hardy’s bloody belt hanging off of her bloody uncomfortable sofa.

“He’s not still here, is he?” her sister asks, looking delighted at the possibility.

“Oh get out, would you?” She throws her pillow at Lucy, who dodges it and heads back toward the front door still looking entirely too pleased with herself. Fred is delighted by all this activity and lets out another screech which just about splits Ellie’s head in two.

Well, her hangover is not his fault. She kisses the top of his head and takes him to the bathroom. 

**-AE-**

She doesn’t check her phone until after she’s cleaned herself up a bit and made herself some coffee – extra strong, not even milk to soften the edge. Her head is still throbbing but after two slices of toast her stomach isn’t sloshing about anymore, so that’s an improvement.

Christ, if anyone from town had seen her out last night, dancing on the night that her husband’s murder trial had been scheduled after dumping her children at her sister’s house…at a bar with her former boss? She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes, her face twisted up with embarrassment. She’s lucky that no one had seen them, because that certainly wouldn’t have helped her public image any.

That had been the point, of course, of taking Hardy to a bar on the furthest outreaches of the town, but still. She probably shouldn’t have done it.

On the other hand, it was hard to regret laughing, actually _laughing_ , and feeling young again even for just a couple of hours. Even getting asked for her number had been flattering…

Her number. Right. She should probably check her messages, though she doubts there will be many.

She finds her phone in the pocket of her trousers and has to attach her charger before she can see if she’s missed any messages. She settles Fred down into a high chair and feeds him brunch while it boots up, tapping her fingers against her hip.

Hardy’s texted her, she might have expected that.

The first message is: **It was nice. Not a wanker. Night Miller.**

The second message is a bit longer. Ellie’s eyes widen as she reads it.

**If you’re serious about a divorce I know a solicitor that can draw up the paperwork. Coates can pick them up from Joe once they’ve been signed. He’s been visiting on weekends.**

Ellie checks back and sure enough, she’d told Hardy at some point before falling asleep that she’s thinking about a divorce. And she has been thinking about it, more or less constantly, for months. But she hadn’t meant to just blithely text that information to Hardy.

And what the bloody hell did he mean about Reverend Coates visiting Joe in custody?

Last night is beginning to have far more repercussions that she is prepared to deal with right now.

She finishes feeding Fred and then changes his diaper and gets some things together for him. She calls a cab to take them to the bar where she and Hardy had left her car. Next she drives Fred to a park and takes him for a long walk while she tries to puzzle out what exactly to do, what it is she wants.

After forty minutes of a determined pace, Ellie stops at a bench to rest. She lets Fred out of his stroller and gives him a few toys. Once he’s happily occupied, she pulls out her mobile. She stares at it for a moment, thinking hard, and then she dials Hardy’s number.

He picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“It’s me, it’s Ellie.”

There’s a long moment of silence and Ellie rolls her eyes. Phone etiquette is not Hardy’s strong point. Hell, regular etiquette is not his strong point.

“Can you…put me in contact with that solicitor?”

He maintains a loaded silence for another moment. Then he says, “Yeah. Let me track down his number.” She can hear a strange note in his voice: regret? Sympathy? It’s hard to tell. “I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks.” She can hear her heart thudding in her chest. “Is…Reverend Coates really visiting Joe on the weekends?”

Hardy groans. “Right. I probably shouldn’t have…” He breaks off that thought. “Yes. I’m sorry. Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Occupational hazard. I noticed he was slipping out of town every weekend. His AA meetings are during the week so I thought…well. Medical leave has been a bit…uh. Boring.”

“Are you still following people about? You know that’s stalking, right?” she asks, trying to hide her hurt behind a snipe at him.

“Still a detective at heart, I suppose,” he says.

“Right. Thanks. For the phone number.” She’s about to hang up, already pulling the phone away from her ear, when she hears Hardy say her name.

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Divorce is…it gets messy.” It sounds like he’s forcing the words out. “It’s hard, Ellie. Don’t try to do it by yourself.”

What a pair they are, both former detectives, and soon enough they’ll both be divorced, too. It would be funny if it weren’t so fucking tragic.

“I’ll…right. Thank you.” She hangs up then. She plays with Fred for a while, until it starts to look like rain. It’s near time to get Tom from school anyway. She straps the toddler back into his stroller and heads home.

**-AE-**

True to his word, Hardy provides her with the number of a solicitor to help her prepare papers for a divorce. She isn’t prepared for how lonely it is, to structure the legal end to her marriage. If the solicitor is surprised by her extenuating circumstances, he doesn’t mention it. His brisk, professional manner is soothing, in a way, but she still wants the process over with quickly.

He offers to send the paperwork to Joe directly and she agrees. She is not at all interested in speaking with him face-to-face.

The trial is approaching, but Ellie lets her focus remain on the divorce as the days slip by. She also begins to consider returning to the work force, although in what capacity she doesn’t quite know.

She misses being a copper, but the idea of going back is somewhat terrifying at the moment. It’s hard to imagine going stepping back into the station in Broadchurch…it’s harder to imagine doing anything else.

She has half a mind to go to the church and demand to know why Coates has been to see Joe so often, but she controls the urge. He’s a vicar, after all. Ellie can’t be forgiving, not about this, but it’s part and parcel for a man of God. So while she’s disgusted by the idea of it, she is clear-headed enough to know that the reverend hasn’t being doing anything wrong.

Still, he might have mentioned.

She gets him the notarized paperwork he’ll need to pick up the divorce papers on her behalf and she settles in to wait. Once she’s got them, she can file them with the court and get a judge to sign off on them, and then she’s free.

The days move past. There is silence from Joe and from Paul. She begins to get worried after a week passes and she hears nothing about the divorce papers. She tries to ignore her worries, to tell herself they’re unfounded. After all, he still has two weeks to sign the papers, and he can’t mean to contest the divorce…why would he? He’s on trial for bloody murder. This is just the legal end to a marriage that has already been over for months.

**-AE-**

Hardy comes over a day or two after her initial misgivings about the divorce papers, presumably to discuss their future career plans. He looks well, like he’s been resting in the week or so it’s been since she’s seen him. Despite this fact, she quizzes him about his medication and diet because it’s easier to focus on that then on any of the crap she’s dealing with. He loses patience with her questions very quickly.

“Alright, alright! Stop clucking, mother hen!” he snaps at her when she asks him for the third time about his sodium intake.

“I’m only being a friend! God knows you’re no good at looking after your own health, so somebody ought to,” she shoots back, her fury igniting just as quickly as his. They’re glaring at each other.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a hopeless nag?” His accent is thicker now that he’s good and mad.

“And you’re an insufferable grump!” she snaps back. He opens his mouth but before he can unleash a fresh volley of abuse, there’s a knock at Ellie’s door.

She flings it open, still furious with Hardy and his stubborn refusal to accept that someone actually cares about his well-being. She’s so mad, in fact, that it takes her a moment to register who her visitor is.

“Hello, Ellie.” Paul Coates is the one on her doorstep, and he doesn’t look too happy to be there. “May I come in?”

She steps aside and allows him in. His eyes dart over to Hardy, who is still fuming a bit, and then back to Ellie.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says.

“You’re not,” Ellie tells him sharply.

“Right, well. Shall we sit?”

It crosses Ellie’s mind to remind Reverend Coates that it’s her house and therefore her responsibility to invite people to sit, but she bites her tongue. Her snippy attitude is Hardy’s fault, not his, and he looks uncomfortable enough without her going off on him.

The three of them settle around the kitchen table. Paul focuses his attention on Ellie, and there’s a bit of regret in his gaze.

“I’ve just come from a visit with Joe,” he says. “I’m sorry to say, Ellie…he’s refusing to sign the paperwork.”

“What?” That utter rat-bastard--! She’s stunned right out of breath.

Hardy’s face is darkening too, his jaw clenched so hard that she can see the tendons standing out in his neck.

Paul rushes on. “He says there’s only one way he’ll sign them and that’s…” He winces a bit. “That’s if you come visit him.”

“Fat bloody chance,” Hardy snaps.

Paul lifts his shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug. “It’s the only way Ellie will get an uncontested divorce. Otherwise they’ll have to go to trial.”

Ellie barks out a viciously bitter laugh, startling herself and both of the men at her table.

“Suppose I better go then.”

“Miller…” Hardy’s eyes are black ice, darker than she’s ever seen them. They’re locked onto her face.

“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll go get the damn papers myself. Let him see what he’s done to me.”

Paul attempts to soothe her, offering to go with her when she sees Joe. She has just enough self-control left to decline politely and see him to the door.

“You can’t be serious about this, Miller. You can’t see him.” Hardy’s arms are crossed over his chest.

“That’s not your decision.” She wants her damn divorce papers. She didn’t know how much she wanted them until just this moment, but now she’ll agree to just about anything in order to cut herself free.

Hardy is struck silent. It isn’t his place and he knows it, but the heat in his eyes is more than enough of an indication of his feelings on the matter.

“He’ll try to manipulate you,” he says hoarsely.

“I know.”

“He’ll do it too, because you’re too much of a soft touch to stand your ground.”

“Oh, don’t you dare, Hardy, don’t you bloody dare or I swear I will kick you in the bullocks so hard—”

“I’m coming with you.”

She freezes for a second. “No, you absolutely are not—”

“ _Yes_. If you think for one minute you’re going to see him by yourself, I’ll have whatshisname—Bob!—lock you in the holding cell.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try it and you’ll bloody well see.”

“I don’t need you to protect me!” She is shaking with furious energy, ready to lash at him if he comes within arm’s length. He’s no better: his fists are clenched so hard that his knuckles are white.

“Yes, you do!” he fires back at her, his accent gaining strength with volume.

“I can handle it on my own!” In fact, she’s determined to. She’s tired of feeling scared and guilty. She wants to do this, wants to see Joe and demand her divorce and take some control of her own life back.

There’s a thunderous pause. Ellie’s ears are ringing. Hardy is staring at her and there’s something warring with the frustration in his eyes.

“You don’t have to, Mill—Ellie. You _can_ do it alone, but you don’t have too. You _shouldn’t_. Let me help you. No one helped me.”

Both of them are breathing hard and suddenly that’s the only sound in the room. He’s taken all the thunder right out of her – and apparently, she’s done the same to him, because a moment later he nearly falls onto her couch.

“Dizzy,” he explains at her flash of panic. “Just dizzy. It’ll pass.”

“You’ve got to stop stressing out your heart so much, you’re supposed to be recovering!”

“Are we back to this?” He tosses his hands in the air. “For Christ’s sake, Miller, forget my heart. Are you letting me come with you to see Joe or am I going to have to handcuff you to your damned sink?”

She hesitates, wanting to tell him no and throw him out of her sitting room. He must see that very thought forming in her mind because he reaches up and grabs her wrist.

“Please, Ellie. I mean it as a friend.”

“You could have said from the start,” she tells him, tugging her wrist away so she can cross her arms over her chest.

“I’m saying now. _Asking_ now. Let me come with you, _as a friend._ ”

He knows her too bloody well, knows that appealing to their friendship will help cool her temper. He is definitely a good detective, employed or not. Long seconds pass as they stare at each other. Then, finally, she relents. 

She doesn’t say that it’s somewhat of a relief, knowing she doesn’t have to go alone. She flat-out refuses to give him the satisfaction.


	8. Chapter 8

Ellie’s nightmares have not prepared her for what it’s like to approach the detention block that Joe is being confined in.

There are steel-colored clouds hanging low over the place, matching the heavy feeling in her heart. Her whole world seems to have narrowed to this grey misery, and she has to dig deep for her fury in order to find the strength to approach the building.

Hardy is a silent shadow, following at her heels. His eyes give nothing away.

They sign in and a warden explains the procedure and the rules. Her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. She feels like she’s on a small island, and nothing outside of her thoughts can touch her. She merely stares at warden while he speaks, nodding when it seems to be a correct moment to do so. Her mind is already behind the security barriers, already in a room with her husband – her former husband.

Hardy says something to the warden but it’s as if he’s speaking another language. She doesn’t catch it.

The last time she felt this way, he’d just told her that Joe had been the one that had killed Danny and he had been leading her to see him at her request. In a chilling repeat of their personal history, Hardy takes the lead again, a half-step ahead of her as they walk to the room where she will speak to Joe directly for the first time since he was arrested.

She has a flash of memory: her foot connecting with his rib, the feel of it giving as she screams at him.

It’s gone almost before she can fully experience it. But it feeds the fire in her belly, and she needs that fire.

She sits at the table. There are windows along one wall that she can’t see out of, and a guard at the door. There is one table and four chairs. As she settles into her chair, Hardy’s hand comes down on her shoulder. She looks up at him, still feeling utterly detached from all of this.

"You’re going to be fine.” His fingers tighten on her shoulder. “You can do this.”

She nods. Her body feels like it’s responding just a second later than normal. If Hardy notices, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he lifts one of the other chairs and moves it back a few feet toward the wall. He perches himself there, separate but present, and she knows he won’t miss a single detail of this encounter.

She wishes she didn’t feel so foggy.

Time stretches, she can’t tell how long she’s been sitting here, waiting. And then at last a guard walks Joe into the room, and that foggy, distant feeling is shattered in an instant. Her blood rushes hot at the sight of him, and it’s a minor shock to see him in a jumpsuit. Her brain is suddenly sharp, taking in a hundred details she had missed before, and the heat which has been resting low in her stomach bursts into her chest. Her heart is screaming a protest even as her lungs start to feel like they’re filled with fire.

He sits and the guard withdraws to the door.

“What could you _possibly_ want?” she asks. Joe’s eyes are huge and almost all pupil. He looks stricken, as though he had expected to be greeted with tears and not fury. Perhaps he thinks that she’s come to some sort of terms or to some sort of understanding about what he’s done.

“Just to see you, El. I just wanted to see you. I hardly caught a glimpse of you in court—” Joe’s words stop abruptly as he finally registers Hardy’s presence in the room. His eyes turn back to Ellie and she can read the small betrayal in them, as though she’s done him harm by bringing Hardy along.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she growls so low that her throat hurts from the effort. Hardy shifts in his chair behind her and she knows he’s tensing up, ready to intervene if necessary. She wonders if he’s more concerned for Joe’s physical well-being or her mental one. Perhaps both.

“What’s he doing here?” Joe asks her.

She ignores the question.

“Seriously, what do you want? What do I say to get you to sign the bloody papers and let me free?” she asks him instead. He still looks a bit stunned, as if he hadn’t really considered the question. In the past, a similar look on his face might have made her melt, might have earned him a kiss for being so adorably daft. Now, however, all it makes her feel is a slow, sick twist in her belly.

“I hadn’t thought—I just wanted to see you. I’ve missed you, Ellie.”

There’s a throaty rumble from behind her and Hardy’s wordless loathing is vicious enough that Ellie shivers and Joe’s eyes go wide again.

“You…you don’t get to say things like that to me. You _do not_ say that to me, or I swear to God I’ll break all your ribs this time, you bastard,” she says. She thought that her heart had already been broken but she can feel all the searing cracks in it all over again, making it hard for her to draw a full breath. It feels like he’s placed a huge stone on her chest and is watching her try to keep from being crushed, and she hates it.

“I don’t want our marriage to be over,” Joe says. His hands twitch toward her but Ellie jerks herself back in her chair.

“That’s a warning, Joe. Do it again and I’ll be the one breaking your ribs.” Hardy’s voice is calm, completely controlled, but he’s very serious. Ellie wants to doubt that he’ll do it, not if there’s the smallest chance that it could further harm their case against Joe, but there’s no hesitation in his voice.

“Enough,” she says, glancing back at Hardy over her shoulder. “I’ve got it.”

Hardy’s eyes touch hers. He nods, the barest hint of an inclination of his head, and then his gaze locks onto Joe again. He is strung as tight as a bowstring.

Joe looks back and forth between them. Then he focuses on Ellie again.

“When I get out, we could try again, El. We were happy. We were…we _are_ good together.”

“Shove it up your arse.” Ellie’s arms are crossed over her chest and she’s aware all at once that her entire body is trembling.

Joe tries a different tack. His expression firms up. “I’m not signing away my rights to custody over the boys.”

Ellie’s laugh is harsh. “No judge on the _planet_ would rule in your favor. I’m having the kids and that’s final. Besides, what sort of custody rights do you think you’d get to exercise in prison?”

“What if I don’t go to prison?” he asks her, leaning forward.

Everything in her rejects the very idea that he might be found innocent of the charges against him. Her trembling increases. “Even so. Even if you go free, Joe, you’ll never get those kids.”

His face crumbles a bit. “Ellie, Christ! I still love you, I’m still _in_ love with you, can’t you see that?”

Ellie shoves her chair back from the table another few inches with her legs. “You’ve seen me,” she says coldly. “You got what you asked for. Now sign the _fucking_ papers, Joe.”

There’s more rustling from behind her, and Hardy reaches the table in three long strides. Ellie finally realizes what he’d been saying to the warden when they entered: he’d been asking for the divorce paperwork. He slaps it down onto the table top now and looks to the guard for a pen. The guard relays the request.

Joe is looking up at Hardy, his expression twisted. “Why are you even here anyway? Here to get off on other people’s misery? You’re always at the center of it, always where there’s the most pain, aren’t you? Bloody sadist.”

Hardy looks at him as though he is something rotten. His jaw works for a second before he responds, leaning over the table to look Joe right in the eyes.

“I’m not the cause of this pain, you are. And you can bet that if I _had_ caused it, I would be owning up to it. That’s what it means to be a man, Joe. Now you’re going to let her go because she deserves far better that this pile of shit you’ve lobbed onto her, and that’s the bloody last you’ll bother her. Do you understand?”

The guard brings the pen to the table. Joe looks up at Hardy and for a long moment, Ellie thinks he’ll argue. She thinks maybe this is a wasted trip and he won’t sign the papers. But the fight goes out of him a second later. He takes the pen and begins signing where his name has been flagged. Hardy moves back to his chair.

When Joe is done, Ellie takes the paperwork and looks it over very carefully. She does not want to come back here in the event that he’s missed something.

Then she stands and indicates that her meeting with Joe is over.

“I’ll see you again, Ellie,” Joe says as she and Hardy are let out of the room.

“Only from the dock,” she promises him, and her chin and shoulders are high as she walks out and leaves him behind.

**-AE-**

“You did well in there,” Hardy says as they head out to the car. Ellie is clutching the divorce papers to her chest. She doesn’t respond to the praise and Hardy doesn’t speak again. His expression is slightly worried, but she ignores it as they climb back into her car. She starts up the engine and begins the drive back to Broadchurch.

In order to dispel the rapidly increasing discomfort of her silence, he flicks on the radio. A news report is on about a storm on its way in. Ellie reaches over and flicks it off again, her eyes glued to the road.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she’s alright, she can tell. Before he can, she jerks the wheel to the side, pulls them over in the middle of nowhere, and climbs back out of the car. She walks away from it as fast as she can, and she is gulping in huge breaths, and her hands are shaking. She’s stunned by how fast the panic has come on because she had felt really good, really strong while she’d been talking to Joe.

The fire in her belly is gone, however, and it’s left a lump of ice in its wake. She is shivering violently.

Hardy is out of the car and jogging toward her, calling her name. She tries to turn away from him, but shock has made her body clumsy and she trips over a crack in the pavement instead.

He lunges across the final distance between them and catches her. He presses her hard into his chest, his hands moving up and down her back to generate friction.

“It’s alright. It’s alright, you’re just in shock. We need to get you warm,” he says. He glances around but they’re in the middle of nowhere, nothing around them but a field and some trees. He manages to steer her to the car and sits her in the backseat.

“Lie down, across the back. No, Miller, don’t argue with me, just do it,” he tells her when she starts to protest. His tone is clipped and professional, and she responds more to the authority in it than to his actual orders. She lies back as Hardy removes his jacket. He tucks it around her body, covering as much of her as he can.

“Feet up,” he orders.

“This is ridiculous,” she says, but her teeth are chattering.

“Do you have to argue with everything I say? Just do it,” he repeats. “Just until you’re warm.”

He shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side. She never shut the engine off, so he readjusts the mirrors, turns up the heat for her, and then pulls away from the side of the road.

“What’re you doing? Are you allowed to drive?”

“I had the surgery, remember? I’m _fine_.”

He stops at the first pub he spots. It isn’t much to look at, but she finds that she really does want a cup of tea. She always wants a cup of tea when she needs some comfort. Hardy leads the way inside and they’re soon seated in a booth near a window. Outside, the heavy clouds finally open and Ellie stares as the rain begins to streak down the glass.

“I thought I was doing really good,” she finally says in a voice which is more broken than she’d been hoping. Hardy is studying her with gentle eyes.

“I was never really worried about you actually _speaking_ to Joe. To be honest, I rather expected you to give him a few more kicks.” There’s just a hint of a smile on Hardy’s lips. It fades again after a moment.

“I _was_ a bit worried about after,” he admits, and she ducks her head.

“There’s me, always good for a breakdown,” she mumbles.

“I hardly think you’re to be blamed,” he says, leaning back against the cushioned seat. “Give yourself a bit more credit, Miller. It’s not easy but you’re recovering.”

He’s not good at being nice…but the fact that he’s making the effort really sinks in. Imagine if the other DSs could see him now? They’d hardly recognize him. But then, the pair of them have been through a lot together.

“Suppose you’d know,” she says, relenting a little. Hardy nods.

“I would,” he says firmly. “You’re already doing better than me.”

“You never did tell me what happened.” She pauses as the waitress brings over their tea and a plate of fish and chips. She almost reminds him that he’s supposed to be strict about his salt intake, but…well, fuck it. It’s been a day.

Hardy is quiet for a while, and for once he isn’t looking at her. Instead, he is staring out of the window. He looks a bit haunted. She’s seen this look on his face before: it was pretty much the only look he’d had when he’d first arrived in Broadchurch. She thinks she understands it a little better these days.

“You read Olly’s article,” he says. His voice is very soft.

“I did.” She dashes vinegar over her side of the chips. The food is helping her regain her equilibrium quickly and she’s grateful. “There did seem to be a few gaping holes in it.”

His eyes cut to hers quickly. “I may have taught you too well,” he murmurs. He looks down at the plate and plucks up a chip.

“It was my wife’s car. She was the one having an affair.”

Previously, Ellie had assumed that it was Hardy’s rather sour outlook on life paired with his obsession with work which had led to his divorce. The image of him and Daisy in the photograph in his flat flashes across her mind’s eye and she thinks maybe she’s gotten the timeline of that part a little confused.

“Daisy still doesn’t know. I made Oliver promise me to keep it out of the story.” He shrugs. “It was the only thing I could do to…the only way I could shield her from what happened. Our marriage was over anyway, but she doesn’t need to know that her mother…that...”

His voice grows too thick to continue, and Ellie is reaching out for his hand before she can stop herself, pressing his fingers in sympathy.

“Anyway, it was still my failure. Personally and professionally.” His eyes search hers for a moment, and then he lets out a steadying breath. “It’s long ago now. It’s done.’

Ellie nods and pulls her hand back, letting him eat. But while he digs into the fish and chips like he hasn’t eaten in a week, her mind is working swiftly through everything he’s let slip about himself over the course of their being partners and friends, and tears sting in her eyes. He’s prickly and sometimes downright thoughtless, but he’s also a man that she has grown to respect and yes, like – even if she does feel like throttling him nearly every time he’s in her proximity.

She finds herself wishing that she could have known the pre-Sandbrook Hardy, the one with the laughing eyes that she’s only seen in a photograph and glimpsed, briefly, whilst in a hospital room with his daughter. He’s always shouldering more blame than is his due, she knows that firsthand.

“Don’t feel too bad for me,” he tells her, shaking his head at her like he’s guessed at her thoughts. “I _was_ happier then, and I like to think I was a decent father, but I’ve always been an arsehole and I was a shit husband. Tess wouldn’t have had an affair in the first place if that weren’t true.”

“You wouldn’t have cheated.” Ellie says it with certainty, and Hardy’s eyes are wary as he looks at her.

“I’ve made plenty of other mistakes. Especially with Tess and Daisy. Enough now. Eat your chips,” he says, closing this particular discussion…for the moment.


	9. Chapter 9

If someone had told Ellie on the day she’d met Alec Hardy that she would, in her not-very-distant future, be thinking of him almost constantly, she’d have laughed at them. She wants to laugh at herself. Only it’s not striking her as funny. In fact, she’s worried about it. She’s worried that she’s replacing her dread of Joe’s murder trial with trying to untangle Hardy’s tragic backstory, worried that she’s too unstable to deal with her reality so instead she’s focusing on Hardy’s.

Still, a week later and she’s still thinking about the look on his face when he told her his wife had been cheating on him whilst simultaneously destroying their case in Sandbrook. Joe’s trial is starting on Monday and it’s Saturday, and her mind keeps drifting off into the realm of someone else’s pain.

Maybe that’s not as insane as it sounds. Deflection is an effective tool for escape. On top of that, it’s always been easier for Ellie to worry about others than to worry about herself, and Joe’s trial is like a black hole: it will suck her in no matter how hard she fights it. Perhaps she should be glad of this mental break from it all.

Besides, she doesn’t think of Hardy all of the time. Between looking for a job and caring for Tom and Fred, there are plenty of other things on her mind. Plus…that man from the bar had eventually texted her, and she’s answered him a couple of times. She’s been careful not to encourage him, but it has been nice to just be Ellie and not the former DS who was sleeping next to a child killer for two months without being aware of it.

Today it wasn’t even her fault. She hadn’t started thinking about Hardy until she’d been gathering up laundry and she’d spotted his belt.

She keeps forgetting to give the damn thing back to him. It lies there, a slender strap of leather, completely innocuous, and sets off a flood of thoughts about how Hardy came to be so tired and suspicious and lonely.

It is also the only article of men’s clothing in her house, which is odd after so many years of marriage. Is it mocking her or is it just nice to have something of a man’s around?

Or has she done a nosedive into the deep end of the crazy pool? She really isn’t sure anymore, but she is starting to think that she’s associated way too much meaning to a single belt.

She turns her back to it and carries on with her laundry. She forces the memory of Hardy’s large, haunted brown eyes to the back of her mind.

**-AE-**

She receives an email on Sunday morning about an opening for a position in Devon, not as a DS but she’d still be a copper at least. It’s a tip from an old friend from her early days as in the job, and she appreciates the early head’s up, but she’s not sure if she wants it.

She is strapping Fred into the car before she really thinks about what she’s doing, but it’s too late now: Tom is actually looking forward to seeing Hardy (who’d have thought?) and she can’t back out now. So she drives over, wondering how she feels about Hardy becoming the prominent male figure in Tom’s new life. But who else could it be? It’s far too early for Ellie to be dating someone, and Olly is still mostly a child himself. Mark Latimer? Not bloody likely, and Nige isn’t all bad but Tom could outsmart him easily. Paul Coates? They’re not religious, so Tom hardly sees him and bridges were burnt last summer anyway. No…she supposes Hardy is the only option there, and thinking back it really isn’t so surprising. After all, Tom had told Hardy about missing his dad, and Hardy had been encouraging about his interest in football. He’d treated Tom with grave respect on the night of Joe’s hearing. Her son had been desperate for that sort of attention, and not from Ellie.

How deeply Hardy’s been inserted into her life. She bets he’d run for the hills if he actually sat down and thought about it. She’s still not sure how it had happened.

And damn it, she’s forgotten to bring that bloody belt along again.

Hardy answers the door in jeans and a T-shirt and Ellie is surprised by how healthy he’s looking. There is a litheness to him now that wasn’t present before his operation, and there’s color in his cheeks. There’s a little more meat on his bones, although he still looks like he could do well with a year’s worth of good feeding.

“Miller and sons.” He blinks at her, surprised.

“Had a job offer, wanted to know what you think,” she says.

“You brought the boys over here for that?” He sounds like he thinks she’s gone a bit daft. She’s used to it.

“Well, Tom wanted to see you and I can’t leave Fred,” she says, but he’s already ushering them inside. The place is too small for the four of them, but strangely Hardy doesn’t seem to mind. He moves about his tiny kitchen, fixing tea and looking for a snack for Tom and Fred. There isn’t much food about, in typical bachelor style, but he finds a pack of digestives and tosses them to Tom. When he opens his fridge, Ellie is shocked to see grapes in there, and she lets out a quick laugh. Hardy glances at her over his shoulder but she waves it off, knowing she’d never be able to really explain why it strikes her as funny.

“Tell me about this job offer,” he says, passing both her and Tom mugs of tea before settling into a chair with his own. Ellie and Tom are on the couch with Fred smooshed between them.

“It’s…well, I’d be a traffic cop if I’m honest. But I’d still be a cop.”

Hardy nods, processing that. She thinks he’d understand the need to stay connected to it somehow, even if she wouldn’t be a detective anymore.

“It’s a shameful waste of your talent,” he says at last, startling her.

“I’m sorry, my _what?_ ”

“Your talent. Miller, you’re a good detective. You’re a good copper in general, but they’d be fools not to make you a DS again at least, and they’d make you DI if they were smart.”

She is staring, she knows it, but whatever she’d been expecting Hardy to say, this isn’t it.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that, Miller. You never forgave me about that damn job.” There’s a smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “You’d be good at it.”

“Did they swap your heart out completely? Because I could swear you’re being nice to me,” she says.

“I’m sure it won’t last,” he tells her, and now he is smiling – a full blown, teasing smile which she’d have assumed would look out of place on him, but it doesn’t. In fact, it’s…is charming the word for it? She can’t decide. It’s a good look for him though.

“If you’d like my advice, I’d hold out for a better offer if I were you.” He looks over at Tom. “Think you can find a football? We could kick it around for a bit.”

Ellie is stunned when the pair of them get up and head out to a grassy spot to do just that. She’s much less surprised that Hardy is terrible at football, but then his heart condition had prevented him from these sorts of recreational exertions for a long time. And anyway, Tom looks heartbreakingly happy to be outside and running off some of his excess energy.

She watches for a while, then takes Fred for a walk in order to think a little more about the job offer. Perhaps Hardy’s right….perhaps she could get a better offer if she sticks to her guns. She is, after all, a good detective.

**-AE-**

The first day of the trial brings Ellie’s mind back to Joe. She’s been back over her own private notes on the case in order to prepare herself, but that is like walking through a minefield. She’d never had the slightest inkling that it could be Joe, and every other lead that she and Hardy had tracked down…well, they all seem to mock her from the pages of her notebook. Reliving it all in court is promising to be a nightmare.

The first day also makes it clear that Joe’s defense team mean serious, if slightly underhanded, business. Ellie realizes that she does not want to be called to the witness stand very early, but of course she will be. She was one of the detectives on the case. There will be no avoiding it. Hardy is on the same wavelength as she is and throughout the morning, whenever she sees him, they communicate nearly without words at all.

He comes out of the courtroom at one point and the look he gives her is a potent mix of frustration and sorrow. He takes her outside.

“The confession has been dismissed,” he tells her. She sucks in a quick breath.

“Because of me?” she asks him, tears rimming her eyes without her permission.

“They used the attack on Joe to get the confession remitted from evidence.” He lets out a frustrated breath from his nose. “It’s more my fault than your own. It was against policy and I did let you see him anyway.”

Still, she feels a hot rush of shame and regret. And she knows that the rest of the town, especially Mark and Beth Latimer, will hate her even more. It’s a hard thought to bear.

“We all want to kick the shit out of him.” Hardy’s hands close on her shoulders, bringing her focus away from Broadchurch’s reaction to this latest bout of unwelcome news and back to his face. “Stay strong. Don’t let them get to you.”

She wonders which them he’s talking about…the defense team? The Latimers? The entire bloody town? But she sits in the courthouse with her head high.

At the end of the day, she drives him home. He invites her in and she sits on the couch. He pours her a glass of wine and she looks up at him with a raise eyebrow.

“No coffee,” he explains. “Besides, I thought you’d like something a bit stronger than tea.”

Well, he isn’t wrong. She takes a sip and relishes the flavor. Hardy is watching her, holding his own glass but not drinking from it. His taste in wine has only improved, and Ellie makes a note to ask after the vintage before she leaves.

“I think I did need this, thank you.” She can’t have more than a glass though, because before long it’ll be time to pick up Tom from school and Fred from Lucy.

He nods and they sit in silence for a long moment.

“Any word on the divorce?” he asks, and she grins a bit because he’s no good at small talk but he’s trying anyway.

“Not yet. I’m just waiting to hear that it’s finalized.” She lets out a long breath. “I can’t tell if I’ll be relieved or not. I was good at being married.”

Hardy nods, lost for a second in his own thoughts. She knows he feels bad, feels in some way that he had a part to play in the destruction of her marital bliss. It’s classic Hardy: to feel bad for things that he couldn’t have controlled in the first place.

“You’re a good mum, and you’re a good copper. You’ll land on your feet,” he tells her after a few long, quiet moments spent drinking their wine.

She is surprised but touched by the sentiment. Surprised because things like this are so rare for Hardy (though her mind flashes back to him asking her to compliment Tom on his behalf after the Latimer reconstruction), and touched because he clearly means it.

She thanks him and they finish their wine. He walks her to the door of his tiny little place and then, just as he had weeks and weeks ago, he brushes a very light kiss over her cheek.

“See you later, Miller,” he says, and she leaves him standing in the doorway, watching her climb into her car and drive away.

**-AE-**

She thinks back on his words, on his absolute belief that she’ll land on her feet. It helps soothe her to sleep that night, and she needs sleep if she’s going to drag herself back into the courthouse the next day.

He’s a good friend. A much better friend than she ever thought he’d be, and she thinks life is funny that way, dropping a man like Hardy into her path. Perhaps Hardy thinks the same way about her.

She also thinks maybe he was right about her staying after a proper detective’s job. She’s worked hard and accepting anything less than a DS position would be a step backward. She’s had too many of those lately.

She falls asleep while thinking of ways to buff up her resume, which is a nice change from falling asleep while thinking about Joe being in love with an eleven year old boy and what it had done to everyone.

**-AE-**

Ellie wakes two days later to her phone buzzing loudly on the bedside table. She drags her head away from the pillow and looks down at it. It’s a text from Chloe Latimer. Beth has had her baby, a little girl.

Joy and grief twist through Ellie’s gut. It wasn’t so long ago that Beth and Mark would have let her know themselves. But she’s grateful for Chloe’s text message. Perhaps she and Tom have been talking at school. Perhaps not everyone in town is against her.

Not that there’s much evidence of this when she goes into Broadchurch itself. Most people avoid her on the streets. Olly’s eyes are wide and sympathetic when she passed the Echo’s offices but Maggie restrains him from running after her again. She won’t call more attention to herself by talking to the newspaper about why she attacked Joe. Hardy’s always said it and she has always agreed: it’s not about her, or Hardy or even Joe. It’s about Danny. Justice for Danny.

In the meantime, she’ll take her character assassination with her chin up high.

She buys a gift for the Latimer’s new arrival. She’ll ask Tom to pass it on to Claire at school. Then, her stomach an acid mix of dread and determination, she drives to the courthouse and waits to be called to testify.


	10. Chapter 10

When Ellie is finally tapped on the shoulder to testify, it’s almost of a relief. She’s been following court developments mostly through Hardy (she avoids the news these days), and it’s been more frustrating than she’d like to admit. She knows that she’s about to be cast into the fire, but at least it will be over with. She can finally answer some of the questions she knows everyone has been dying to ask, in her own voice, and if not necessary on her own terms, at least under oath.

“They’ll be pushing you, hoping for an emotional reaction,” Hardy warns her.

“I know.” She doesn’t think she’s going to able to avoid giving them one.

“I’ll be there,” he assures her. It should unnerve her that he seems to know what she’s thinking, but she’s grateful for it.

She gives him a small smile. “You’re being nice again,” she points out, and he makes a face at her.

“Eh, I’ll worry about my reputation later.”

**-AE-**

She takes the stand, trying not to let everyone see how her hands are shaking. She does not look at Joe, but she knows he isn’t looking anywhere else. She can see Hardy sitting toward the back but she doesn’t look directly at him, either. She does cast a quick glance at the Latimers, surprised that Beth is here so soon after having her baby, but their eyes are cold and she returns her gaze to the prosecution’s table top until someone speaks directly to her.

She doesn’t have long to wait.

At first, giving evidence is merely uncomfortable. Describing her family life, her friendship with Beth Latimer, her attack on Joe…all of those things are painful. But her answers are clear and factual, and she’s proud of herself as she directs each one at the jury. The merely uncomfortable part doesn’t last, however…after all, the prosecutors weren’t the ones that wanted her on the stand.

So when it’s the defense’s turn to cross examine, she already knows she’s in for it. She casts a quick glance at Hardy, then she looks away again, focusing on the jury.

Sharon Bishop is every bit of the Rottweiler she’s rumored to be, but Ellie still feels as though she’s holding her own. She keeps her temper through it, through questions about Joe and his sexual preferences, questions about her own capability as a copper. Even the question she knew was coming…Why hadn’t she known Joe was the murderer if she was so good at her job?

Ellie feels her cheeks flush, because she’s been asking herself the same question since the moment Hardy had told her about Joe’s confession, but she holds it together through that line of inquiry as well.

In fact, Bishop doesn’t manage to throw Ellie until one single question: “When did you and DI Hardy start having an affair?”

Joe’s eyes slip from her face to Hardy and back again, as though a lightbulb is going off in his brain, as though he should have always suspected. In fact, everyone is looking back and forth between them, and Hardy shifts in his chair, equally aware of all the attention.

She tries to argue the absurdity of this: after all, before his operation he’d been a walking time-bomb. And she’d been happily married. And he had been her boss. And they couldn’t talk to each other for thirty seconds without pissing one another off. Hadn’t she threatened to throw a cup of her own urine at him once?

Bishop rams her point home with Ellie’s visit to Hardy’s hotel room on the night of the arrest. Their eyes lock across the courtroom because they both know her answer sounds weak, that seeing him in the middle of the night to talk wasn’t a very convincing to reason to anyone outside of what had happened. She had desperately needed him to help her make sense of everything, and he’d been the only person who could understand it from her perspective. But of course no one else the courtroom could possibly know what that was like.

She knows that no matter what, the suggestion that she and Hardy were having an affair is going to stick in people’s minds, in the jury’s minds especially.

And Joe is furious – what a fucking hypocrite – furious about an affair that had never happened. Her temper snaps on the stand and she climbs out of the witness box feeling unsteady.

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Hardy doesn’t follow her out of the courtroom as soon as she leaves. She walks out of the building and sucks in deep, steadying breaths. The idea of her and Hardy together seems laughable to her of course, but it certainly didn’t seem to be ridiculous to anyone else in that room. It was as though the defense had clarified something for them, little lightbulbs flashing up above the heads of everyone in there except for her and Hardy.

_Christ._

She scrubs her hands down over her face. If the jury suspects her of having an affair with him, all of the work she and Hardy had done together will be questioned. There will be lots of explaining to do, to discredit this accusation of misconduct.

Worse, Sharon Bishop has made it so that Ellie will have to think very carefully about every future interaction she and Hardy have. He’s her one friend, the one person that’s helped her stay sane, a lifeline even for Tom – and now every visit will feel like a confirmation of their fictional romance.

While she’s processing all of this, Olly runs over to her – actually runs – and she can see his smartphone clutched in his hand.

“I swear to God, Olly, if you’re about to ask me about what just happened for your bloody newspaper—!”

“Did you sleep with him?” He’s out of breath, his eyes wide on her face.

“Christ, _of course_ not. He was my boss, and he had a bad heart, and I was in love with Joe. You know all of those things, Oliver!”

“People are going to talk. You’re always together so people are going to speculate—”

“We were partners on a murder investigation. We worked together.” Ellie shakes her head. “That’s as far as it went.”

Olly starts to ask her more, but his eyes catch sight of someone approaching over her shoulder, and he turns tail quickly. Ellie glances back and it’s Hardy. No wonder Oliver is so quick to leave.

“I bet he’s having a field day with this,” he says as he stops at her side. There is a very respectable three feet of distance between them. It makes Ellie want to tear her hair out. It’s not like they were ever very touchy-feely, but their behavior together is already being modified. He was the last person that she could be real with, and now they’ll have to watch every word. It’s more irritating than it should be.

“He knows the truth. He knows we didn’t. He knows you _couldn’t._ ”

“Because of my heart, you mean?” Hardy turns to face her. He taps his chest. “But that’s not an excuse anymore. I went and got it fixed.” He tries a joke: “Knew I’d regret it sooner or later.”

She doesn’t laugh because he’s right about getting his heart fixed…and she had gone to London for the operation. Almost directly after, she’d gone and filed for divorce. If the defense found out about that—!

“This sucks.”

Hardy tugs at his tie and doesn’t look at her. “I know.”

“I mean it, this really, really sucks. Brian from SOCO was more keen to sleep with me than you, but no one is going to believe us!”

There’s a flash of heat in his eyes as he looks at her. He shrugs, his brow furrowed. “There’s nothing to be done about it, especially not right this second. There was no affair, the defense can only suggest it. They’ve no proof. It will blow over.”

“Not in a town like this, it won’t!”

“Oh, and that’s the worst thing about this situation, is it? Not the fact that Joe is lying about killing an eleven year old? No, it’s that people might think that you’ve been sleeping with _me?_ ”

His words sting. Of course the fact that Joe pleaded not guilty is worse than the accusation of an affair. But the jury might believe the alleged affair story and then it would color all of the police work that went into the case... She realizes, a second too late, that there’s a little bit of hurt in Hardy’s voice mixed in with all his outrage at Joe’s behavior.

He’s already stalking away from her, his long legs carrying him back into the building.

“Oh, just…bullocks!” she shouts in the general direction of the car park. Several people turn to look at her, and with a flush on her cheeks, Ellie has no choice but to follow Hardy back into the courthouse.

**-AE-**

Hardy finds his own way home after court. Ellie drives to Tom’s school, still wondering how in the hell the hits could just keep coming. Surely the universe would have to take pity on her soon. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

She picks up Tom and Fred and takes them to the cliffs. They climb up the path, going slowly and passing Fred back and forth until they reach the top. Tom goes exploring, roaming along the path with his eyes open for any sort of critter he might smuggle home. Ellie stands and looks out over the water. She envisions herself being far away from here, moving over the waves toward, well, anywhere.

Eventually though, she has to take the boys home. Tom has homework and she’s got her resume to work on. There’s laundry to do and dinner to cook, too. Everything else falls apart, but someone’s still got to take care of the domestics.

She feeds her sons, and as she spends time with them they bring her a bit of brightness after a long, hard day. Then she settles Tom to his homework and takes Fred up to bed. She stops in her room to put her phone on the charger and spots Hardy’s belt coiled on the top of her dresser.

She lets out a long sigh at the sight of it and turns away again.

**-AE-**

Daisy texts her later that night, out of nowhere. Ellie is surprised to see the girl’s name pop up on her screen but she doesn’t hesitate to open the message.

**Thinking of surprising Dad. Mind picking me up at the train station this weekend? Promise not to tell him?**

Despite her recent woes, Ellie smiles as she texts back. **Sure. Does your mum know?**

There’s a pause and Ellie thinks the answer is probably no. Finally, Daisy replies: **She’s not too happy, but she knows if she forbids it, I’ll just go anyway. So she agreed as long as I call her every day.**

Ellie is satisfied. **See you this weekend, then.**

She knows she won’t be able to spend much time with the pair of them, not now that there’s a fictional affair hanging over their heads, but the least she can do is pick Daisy up and not spoil the surprise. No matter what is happening in court, Hardy deserves more time with his daughter and she’ll do her part to make it happen.

**-AE-**

With the first incredibly frustrating week of court done, and with Hardy’s new distance weighing heavily on her, Ellie is looking forward to seeing Daisy even more than she thought she would. Tom has football practice, so she drops him at school and then takes Fred to the train station to meet Hardy’s daughter.

She knows that she’ll have to explain it all to Daisy: the trial and the accusation of an affair with her father. For one, Daisy will probably wonder why the two of them are being distant after she traveled to London for his surgery. And secondly, Daisy will probably hear about it after a day or two in Broadchurch anyway. That’s if she hasn’t been following her father’s last case through Oliver’s Twitter feed.

She and Fred wait at the platform, and Fred is absolutely enchanted with trains and the people moving all around him. She points things out, trying to get him to repeat her words, and he laughs at her. Then Daisy’s train arrives and the girl is soon walking to her, a wide smile on her lips.

“Is he yours?” she asks, making a silly face at Fred. Fred’s fingers slide across her cheek and she laughs. “What a cutie!”

Ellie is beaming. “He is. This is Fred. Fred, this is Daisy, can you say Daisy?”

He doesn’t, but he does babble at her continuously as they make their way to Ellie’s car.

“You’ve made a friend,” Ellie laughs as she straps Fred into his car seat. “I think he’s got a proper crush.”

Daisy laughs. “Don’t tell dad. The word ‘crush’ makes him break out in hives.”

Ellie can picture his grumpy, scruffy face all too clearly, and she laughs too. They start back toward the town.

“So, what prompted this surprise trip to visit your dad?” she asks. Daisy gives her a funny look.

“Didn’t he say?” Then she rolls her eyes. “Of course he wouldn’t. Typical Dad. It’s his birthday tomorrow.”

“No I…he never mentioned,” Ellie says, her heart suddenly heavy in her chest.

“I’m going to make him dinner, you should come ‘round. Bring him an embarrassing present, that would be awesome.” Daisy is very enthusiastic. It’s on the tip of Ellie’s tongue to explain everything now…but she doesn’t. Hardy has been there for her, a steadying presence at her side through this whole nightmare. The least she can do is help celebrate his birthday.

She just hopes Joe’s defense lawyers don’t find out.

“Alright,” she agrees brightly. “I will do. I might need your help picking out a present though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh-kay, so originally I was NOT going to make the affair accusation part of this story…but then I thought about all the ways I could use it and decided…well, why not? It could be fun! So we’ll be seeing some of the more personal response to the affair thing, some of the stuff that I haven’t seen (yet? Or won’t?) in the show. Hope that’s okay with you guys! Should add an interesting element to everything else. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Daisy stays with Ellie that night, very excited by the prospect of showing up on her father's doorstep on the morning of his birthday. Ellie is slightly less excited, but Daisy's good mood is catching. Daisy is full of stories about her dad's previous birthdays. Unsurprisingly, he has never been comfortable with anyone making a fuss over him, even on his birthday. And that means that Daisy is always eager to make as big a fuss as possible.

She and Tom get along well enough, and even Fred is perked by her presence.

When they finally all go to bed, Ellie is exhausted but her heart is happier than it's been since taking the stand in court. It's a nice feeling. The only thing that puts a damper on her cheerier mood is the sudden realization that she hasn't explained to Daisy about the "affair" in the midst of finding and wrapping Hardy's present and fixing dinner for everyone and making sure that Daisy had a comfortable place to sleep.

Oh well, there will time enough in the morning. She rolls onto her side and falls asleep.

**-AE-**

The next morning is chaos. They've all slept in a bit after their late night. Then Fred is into everything in the kitchen, dragging out pots and pans while Ellie tries to put together breakfast for four people. Tom does his best to help with his brother, but the kitchen isn't big enough for all three of them, and what must Daisy think?

But when Ellie pops out to check on her, Daisy has set the table.

"You're a godsend," she says to the girl, and Daisy beams at her. They all settle in to have breakfast, but with Tom at the table, Ellie finds herself shying away from telling Daisy about the "affair."

Then there's a flurry of activity as Ellie tries to get herself and Fred ready while reminding Tom that he needs to change out of his football uniform every once in a while. She nearly forgets the gifts as they head out for the car, dashes back and grabs them, and then finally they're ready to go.

She stops the car just down a ways from Hardy's little flat.

"You go first. Tom and I will grab a cup of tea, call me when you're ready for us to come over," Ellie tells her. Daisy leans over and gives Ellie a one-armed hug from the passenger's seat.

"Thanks, El! Shouldn't be long, promise," she says as she slips out of the car.

"Take your time." They hadn't had much, she knew, in the past few months.

She turns the car and drives back a block to a tea shop. She wonders if Hardy will say something to Daisy. But who is she kidding? Of course he won't.

**-AE-**

Just over an hour later, Ellie is on Hardy's doorstep trying to talk herself into knocking. Tom watches her for a second and then rolls his eyes and, with an impatient sigh, rings the doorbell.

"Oi, I was getting there!"

"Mum, you were gonna stand here until it was _my_ birthday," he replies, and she doesn't have an answer for that. Her oldest is far too perceptive for his own good – or for her blood pressure levels. She's still searching for an appropriately clever retort when the door opens, and she turns to see both Alec and Daisy standing there.

"Hi! Come in, thank you for waiting!" Daisy says, smiling brightly to make up for the look of surprise on Alec's face. She takes Ellie's arm and draws her into the sitting room, then she scoops Fred out of her arms and bounces him to his great delight. Tom follows along and, after a moment's hesitation, gives Alec a hug.

"Happy birthday," he says, his voice muffled by Alec's shoulder. Alec stares at Ellie over the top of Tom's head, stunned, and Ellie feels tears rush to her eyes. Tom hasn't hugged a man since Joe, and it's both painful and joyous to see. Alec returns the hug and when Tom pulls back, he gives the boy's hair and affectionate ruffle. His surprised look is slowly being replaced by a smile.

"Thank you. Is that why you're all here?" he asks, and Ellie nods.

"Why didn't you say something? We'd have planned something special," she says as they all cram themselves into the sitting room.

"I know, that's why I didn't say anything," he replied, and Daisy shoots Ellie an exasperated look.

"Told you," she says, and Ellie laughs.

"Have you been telling stories about me?" Alec's eyebrows shoot up as he looks back and forth between his daughter and Ellie, and Daisy is nodding. "Oh God, that's the last thing I need, you giving Miller more ammunition."

"Oh, shut up, sir." Ellie is grinning.

"Sir again, is it?" Alec's eyes are on her and there's a teasing gleam in them.

"Suppose I could call you Alec. It is your birthday."

It's nice, to go back and forth like this. It's almost like it was before Sharon Bishop starting flinging around accusations. But it seems like he's reading her thoughts again, because just as Sharon's name crosses her mind, his smile falters and he looks away quickly.

_Right._

Daisy picks up on the awkwardness immediately. Like Tom, she is extremely perceptive. And like Alec, she isn't easily shaken off of an idea.

"Alright, would someone like to tell me what's going on?" she asks, sitting back on the couch next to her dad and crossing her arms.

"Yeah, mum…you've been acting weird all week," Tom adds, and Ellie winces a little. Well, there's no avoiding the topic now, and Tom's old enough to understand what's been happening in the court, even if she'd rather not discuss it. She's surprised the kids at school haven't already pestered him to death with questions.

"The other day, in court…the defense lawyer said something about Alec and I that isn't true. But they made it sound like it's true, and a lot of people think it is," Ellie starts, speaking slowly and gently and mostly to Tom.

Alec lets out a half-amused, half-frustrated grunt. "The lawyer insinuated that we had an affair," he says, his tone blunt. Ellie bristles, wishing he had let her prepare the kids for this information a little better.

Daisy is trying very hard to stifle a grin. She's failing miserably. Tom looks a little startled, but he's shaking his head a second later.

"Nah, no way. You hated him," he says, and Daisy bursts out laughing at his quick assessment while Ellie's cheeks start to flush.

"You _hated_ me?" Alec asks her, and he lets out a quick laugh. "Well, I guess I knew that."

"You were a total knob, and you know it!"

" _Me?_ You threatened to throw a cup of urine at me when I didn't want to come over for dinner!"

"You can't still be upset about that!"

"Well, it does stick in the memory!"

She throws her hands in the air. "You deserved it!"

"You're unbelievable…" he groans, running a hand over his face.

"Are they always like this?" Daisy asks, leaning over to Tom. He nods. They smile at each other and head into the kitchen to start on an early supper.

**-AE-**

Supper is mostly stories told at Alec's expense. It is the happiest that Ellie has ever seen him. Daisy tells them about a time when he had to follow her into a mirror house at a fun fair because she'd gotten stuck and he'd ended up needing to be rescued, and he is laughing and hiding his grin with his hand, his shoulders shaking with mirth as Daisy exaggerates the tale. Only his daughter could make him open up this way. She does an excellent impression of his bouts of fury, so spot on that Ellie is laughing to the point of pain.

"There he is, middle of a fun fair, bellowing at the top of his lungs. You'd have thought they'd trapped a bear in there, all the kids were scared and there's this poor worker, probably my age, trying to get to him in the middle of the maze. I'm sure he didn't want to go anywhere near him. Dad's going on and on about bloody mirrors and why in God's name would you make a maze out of reflective material, who's idea of fun was that, great way to look like an idiot and end up with a bloody nose, the whole time he's in there…"

"I wasn't quite that bad," Alec argues, but his grin is wide and his cheeks are a little pink and Ellie is willing to believe there's more truth to the story than he'd like to admit to.

After dinner there's a cake, one that Ellie and Daisy spent most of the middle afternoon baking for him. Alec is embarrassed by the fuss, she can tell, but he doesn't protest when they set it in front of him. There are "happy birthday" shaped candles because, Daisy tells him, "we got tired of counting out individual ones."

"Oh, ha ha," he replies, reaching high to muss her hair up affectionately. "Wait until it's your kids giving you cheek about _your_ age every year."

"Go on, make a wish, blow out the candles." Daisy is grinning at him, and Ellie is glad to see them so close after so much has happened. It's sweet, and Alec deserves a touch of brightness in his life.

"I'm supposed to make a wish now?" He raises his eyebrows and looks at the candles like they might explode if he makes a wrong move. Daisy shoves at his shoulder.

"Come on, Dad…everyone makes a wish on their birthday, it's tradition."

"What am I going to wish for?" he asks, almost – if Ellie didn't know him better – whining.

"Just do it, Dad!"

He pauses, takes a deep breath, and then blows out the candles. Then he cuts into the cake and passes the first slice to Fred.

"That'll be all over his face in no time," Ellie says with a groan, but she's not upset. Fred discovers the frosting and sure enough, he's smearing it all over himself with glee. She's happy to see that Daisy snaps a picture and asks for her to send it to her phone.

After cake, it's time for presents, and Ellie can feel awkwardness starting to creep in at last. Alec is saying he doesn't want anything, really. Daisy isn't having a word of it, and she shoves a wrapped box into his lap before he can get too grumpy.

"It's your birthday, Dad. Presents are mandatory."

He's uncomfortable being the center of attention, Ellie can see that. He's gruff suddenly, but only because he always struggles with the sentimental. He clears his throat, glances at each of the assembled party, and then starts tugging at the taped flaps of the wrapping paper. Then he gives up and rips it.

Inside is an iPad, which looks almost silly in Alec's hands, but Daisy slips to his side and shows him how she's already loaded it with pictures of them, and with music and books he likes, and that she's added her Skype information so they can have video calls. Alec is clearly moved. His throat works as though he's struggling to swallow, and he kisses Daisy's temple, at a loss for words.

He doesn't look at Tom or Ellie and Fred, probably a little embarrassed by the tears in his eyes, but he manages a very sincere and slightly hoarse, "Thank you."

Daisy is very proud of herself, and Ellie thinks she should be. It's a wonderful gift and after their separation, it must be even more precious to Alec.

Before she can hand over her gift, Tom jumps up and hands over his own. It's another surprise for Alec: she can tell that he had not expected Tom to give him his own gift, independently of Ellie.

"Thank you, Tom," he says, and Tom gives him a shy smile as Alec tears it open. Even Ellie is curious. Tom wouldn't let her see what he'd bought for Alec, and he'd hidden it in his backpack until he'd wrapped it to make sure she didn't guess.

Alec lifts the lid of the box, and inside is a football jersey.

"I thought…maybe you could wear it when we play," Tom explains, his voice a little quiet. He's nervous about Alec's response. Alec's fingers spread over the fabric of the jersey, and then he looks up at Tom.

"I will. We can play tomorrow, how about that?" he asks, and Tom nods eagerly. They hug again and now it's Ellie's eyes stinging with tears. She is immensely proud of her son, and she knows that jersey had probably taken most of his savings. She'll have to sneak a little extra into his pocket money over the next few weeks.

She hesitates before handing over her present. After such touching gifts, she feels a bit self-conscious. Still, it's all she's got and she hands it over. Alec takes it and he doesn't quite make eye contact, which suits her fine because she can't bring herself to either.

He unwraps her box and opens the lid, and he looks for a long moment at the thick material of the winter coat she's bought him. His head remains bent over it, keeping his expression hidden, and then looks up at her. There's something in his eyes…maybe it's just surprise at such a utilitarian gift, or maybe he's disappointed that it's not more personal, or…she's not sure what, but it looks a little like she's hurt him again without meaning to.

She opens her mouth and then closes it again when he says, "Thanks, Miller."

Miller, not Ellie. Well, she's not sure what she was expecting. But she manages a smile, ignoring the painful throb in her chest, and gets up to help Daisy clean up after dinner and cake. Her throat is aching and she thinks she may actually be on the verge of tears, but that's just silly.

Once the washing up is done, she bundles up Fred and tells Tom to say goodbye. It's early yet, but Ellie is quiet keen to head home. Alec promises Tom that he'll text tomorrow so they can go kick a ball around, and then Tom heads for the car. Ellie follows him to the door, but Alec reaches out and grasps her arm, stopping her.

"Be careful on your way home." His eyes are unreadable again. His expression is strangely flat. He's determined not to give any of his thoughts away.

"Oh, uh, thanks."

"Don't want Joe's legal team to get wind of this. You being here all day, I mean," he says, and it pisses Ellie off. She's been guilty of the same thought, but despite the look of it to anyone else, she still worked up the courage to come over here. She pulls her arm away.

"That's not fair," she growls at him.

"Isn't it? You're the one that's worried about everyone thinking that we're sleeping together." There's anger in his eyes now, heating them up quickly.

"You really are an arsehole, you know that?" She's glaring up at him, whispering because Fred is asleep against her shoulder. She's practically hissing at him. "Happy birthday, _sir_ ," she snaps, and stomps away from him to her car.

He watches them drive away. The last she sees of him in her rearview is Daisy coming to his side and giving his arm a good whack. Then they turn down another street and he disappears from sight. The wanker.

**-AE-**

It's later in the evening, much later, when Alec examines his gifts a little more closely. Daisy's in his room, sleeping on fresh sheets he was lucky to find in his closet. He pokes through the iPad she gave him, smiling at the pictures of the two of them through the years. She's even sent him the one she snapped tonight of Fred with frosting all over his face, Ellie and Tom laughing at him in the background. She's found a lot of the music and books he likes and he takes his time exploring the apps. He's painfully slow with the damn thing, but he likes it

He unfolds the football jersey and lifts it from the box. He can tell it will fit, perhaps Daisy helped Tom select the right size. He's smiling, looking forward to another round of football tomorrow. He's rubbish at it, but that's because he hasn't played in a decade. He'll get better fast.

Last he picks up the coat Ellie's given him.

It's a nice coat, a very nice coat. It has a warm lining and it's nice and long. The pockets are deep. It's a rich, deep charcoal color and, when he swings it on, it's got a pleasant weight to it. It's probably the best winter coat he's ever owned…so he's not sure why he feels like it's a bit of a snub. Perhaps it was because he was expecting something silly or sentimental from Ellie. Something that was entirely impractical but so obviously something only she would think of to do for him. This…doesn't seem like her.

He sighs and goes to take the coat back off, and that's when he realizes there's something in the inner breast pocket. He slips his hand in and pulls out an envelope.

Inside there's a picture of Ellie and the boys, and one of Daisy buying those silly happy birthday candles she'd put on his cake. There's a third picture of all four of them smiling at the camera for him. He gazes at all of these, then he turns his attention to Ellie's handwritten letter.

_Alec,_

_I know what you're thinking: it's not even close to winter. Why would I give you a winter coat when it'll be months before you use it? Well you can stop making that grumpy face I KNOW you're making because there IS a reason._

_Tom and I were hoping…_ She's scribbled over that bit, but he can still make out the words.

 _I was thinking maybe…_ More scribbles.

_I'd really like you to still be here when it gets cold enough to wear it. Me and Tom both. We're hoping you'll stay in Broadchurch and have lots of snow ball fights with us. And maybe spend Christmas or Boxing Day together._

_So that's why I bought you a winter coat months and months too early._

_I hope you don't leave...I know you've never liked Broadchurch but we've all got used to you now and you could make a home here (in which case you really will put this coat to some use)..._ This is another bit she's scribbled out, and he's glad she doesn't scribble harder or he'd never have gotten to read it.

_Thank you for being there through everything. And a very happy birthday, with many more to come I hope!_

_Yours,_

_Ellie and Fred (and Tom but he's got own gift for you)_

Alec reads the note a few more times. Then he sets it down, along with the pictures, very carefully on his little table. He finds his shoes, wallet and phone, and before he can think too hard about what he's doing, he sets off into the night on foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I jumped narratives from Ellie to Alec at the end, but I couldn’t think of a different way to do the bit where Alec finds the note from Ellie. It’ll be back to Ellie in the next chapter and it will probably stay that way until the end.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Anna, because she was instrumental in bridging the gap between where the story was and where I needed it to be in order to reach this point. The football jersey and coat (complete with pictures and letter) for Alec were her ideas and she very generously let me borrow them! Thank you so much for supporting this from the start, and for indulging me in-between chapters too!
> 
> The story is dedicated to you all because every single person who read it, favorited it, followed it and/or left a review is amazing, and I owe all of you guys. Thank you for being so encouraging and motivating.
> 
> If you’ll forgive the initial angst, this chapter is pretty fluffy! I kind of think these two have earned it…don’t you? THANKS AGAIN!

Tom and Fred are both asleep, and Ellie knows she should be as well. Daisy will be headed back to her mother’s on Monday, and court will be resuming. She’s got one day left to rest. Still, much as she would like to drift away into unconsciousness, she can’t. She sucks in a deep breath and tries not to think of the way she and Hardy had parted earlier in the day.

She should have told him about the envelope in the coat pocket, but the moment had passed too quickly. Whenever she closes her eyes, she sees his: sees the hurt and anger in them as they fought on his doorstep.

She gets out of bed, grabs a robe and finds her way to the kitchen, trying to distract herself. She could try warm milk, maybe it would help soothe her to sleep. She hates warm milk but she’s desperate: she’ll be useless tomorrow if she can’t get some rest, and her thoughts are relentless.

She pulls the milk out of her fridge and pours some in a saucepan, warming it slowly on the stove. She stirs it as she wonders if Alec will find the envelope on his own. A flush comes to her cheek as she remembers what she wrote in the note, and she thinks maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. She sighs as she watches the spoon make eddies in the milk.

She’s so lost in her own thoughts that the knock on her front door makes her heart jump to her throat. She’s glad no one is awake to see her jump halfway out of her skin. She turns off the burner and waits a moment for her heart to stop hammering before she moves toward the door. She grabs her robe from where it hangs over one of the kitchen chairs since she’s only wearing a thin nightgown. In the past, these late night house-calls were usually Beth wanting to chat privately. But she knows this time it isn’t Beth. There’s only one person who would be on her doorstep tonight, and her heart is thumping hard in her chest as she turns the locks and opens the door.

“Ellie,” Alec says, his accent thick. His eyes are stormy and though he is stationary, there is still something about his body language which gives her the impression that he is restless, his muscles coiled under his skin. It doesn’t help her already erratic pulse much.

“What are you doing here at this time of night?” she asks, her fingers knotted tightly in the robe she’s wrapped around her shoulders.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps toward her. It’s just one long step across her threshold, and it places him firmly in her personal space. She tips her head back to look at him. Christ, he’s intense, and butterflies are loose in her stomach as she holds his gaze.

“If I had any sense at all,” he says, and his voice is throaty, almost guttural, “I’d leave in the morning and let you alone for good.”

Her heart stops for a second. What the hell is she supposed to say to that? She stares at him with huge eyes, wondering if she’s actually asleep and dreaming this whole strange, intense encounter. Alec is quiet for a moment, studying her face very, very carefully.

“I never wanted to stay here, you know. Never liked it. Too much sky. Too much water. Too many people in too small a town, all of them too bloody interested in everyone else’s business.”

She says the only thing she can think of because she has no idea how he’s expecting her to respond.

“There’s got to be some reason you’ve stayed.” Did her voice really waver? Her cheeks start to flush.

His eyes are still intent on her face. He’s staring at her like the answer is obvious, like she should already know. His response is a single syllable.

“You.”

Her heart trips and in the space between its beats, she becomes sure she hasn’t heard him right.

“What?”

“You. You’re why I stayed.”

“Because…you wanted to help me. Because we’re friends,” she argues, but her voice lacks strength because he’s already shaking his head.

“No. Not just that. Because…because you infuriate me. Because you nag at me about my health. Because you bought me a bloody winter coat in the middle of spring. Because when I decided to get my heart surgery, you were the reason I was doing it even if I didn’t want to admit it. You made me want to live. Because you make me _happy._ ”

It would be funny, the way he snarls the last part, except for the fact that he’s serious and she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“That’s not…that can’t be…”

“It is.”

She stares at him, struck silent, her pulse throbbing irregularly at the base of her throat. He lets that silence stretch for a long time.

“I care for you.” His eyes are on hers and there are no shadows in them now. She’s looking right into him, she’ll fall into him if she isn’t careful.

“I care for you, Ellie.”

Her heart is a hummingbird in her ribcage. She can feel lightning crackling across the inside of her lungs, burning up her oxygen.

“But…no, that’s not…when?” she asks, and there’s an unexpected anticipation mixed in with her breathless agony.

“About the time I realized Joe was the killer.” He breaks eye contact at last and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It wasn’t just some lightning bolt. I didn’t fully understand it then. But I knew I wanted to help you, protect you if I could. I needed to make sure you were going to be okay. Then, a little later, I realized why I needed those things so much.”

He looks over her head at the wall for a moment while she tries to process all of this.

“You have to understand…it’s the last thing I wanted. My life was over, Ellie. Everything in it that was good was gone. So when I found out about my heart, well…I was pleased. I thought, ‘Good, I should just have enough time to solve Sandbrook.’ I took the job here so I could look into the case without distractions, and I knew I’d probably die here. It was as good a place as any.”

Bands of ice are strangling her heart. She shivers and he starts removing his coat, but mechanically, almost as though he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He settles it over her shoulders. It’s still warm from his body.

“Danny was killed and the thought that I might not have time to solve both cases…it pissed me off. Gave me the energy I needed to see it through. And then there was you, and you were warm and you were trusting and you refused to set that aside for the job. I didn’t know what to do with that. I’d never run across it before.

“By the time Joe confessed, you were well and truly under my skin. It broke me to tell you that it was your husband that killed Danny. I wanted to shield you from it, from all of it, in any way I could. I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I knew I wanted to be there until you and Tom and Fred were back on your feet. I wanted to protect you until then. The only way to do that was to have the surgery. And somewhere in there I finally realized I wanted to live, that I was starting to enjoy living again, and it was because of you. You and Daisy, more precisely.”

“But you’ve…you never…why didn’t you—?”

“You’ve been married up until now!” Then, quieter: “And with everything that’s happened, I wasn’t sure if…”

Ellie hesitates. “Alec—”

He’s been expecting this, her hesitation doesn’t surprise him.

“I know. You make me happy, Ellie, but believe me, I know I can’t do that for you in return.”

That isn’t what she was going to say…but she doesn’t know what she was going to say. Her brain is still trying to process what he’s told her, and it’s hard when she’s got his coat on and his scent is surrounding her and his eyes are so intense.

“It’s alright.” She can tell that he means it, though it costs him. “It’s too much, too soon, and it’s from the wrong person. I understand.”

He leans over and kisses her forehead, and she can see the goodbye in his eyes.

“See you later, Miller.”

He turns to leave, stepping back outside, and for one eternal moment Ellie is frozen on the spot. Then she reaches after him.

“No, wait, you can’t just…don’t do that to me! I just need a second to think…”

He’s walking away, moving quickly now, and he’s impossibly tall and impossibly lonely. Her eyes blur with tears and she steps out of her little house.

“Alec!” she calls, but he rounds a corner and disappears, ignoring her shout. She nearly goes after him anyway, wearing nothing but a nightgown and his coat, her feet bare and her hair in crazy corkscrews. It’s late and it’s cold and she still starts to follow him…

But her courage fails her. She doesn’t know what she’d say if she did catch him, and there are two children asleep in the house behind her. So she stands in her doorway, gripping it for support, and stares after him for a long time.

She thinks she’ll find him in the morning, after she’s had some time to think. By then she’ll have figured out what his confession means to her.

She’s wrong. By morning he’s gone, and he doesn’t answer his phone when she calls.

**-AE-**

She doesn’t sleep. How could she, after that? Instead she lies in her bed and stares at the ceiling. She’s still wearing his coat. She’s pulled it tight around her body while she replays his words in her head over and over.

Alec Hardy…Alec Hardy has been carrying a torch for her. He _seriously_ cares for her.

Her heartrate picks up at the thought of that. She closes her eyes and tries to imagine it. On the one hand, he can be a huge jerk. Colossal. Legendary, even. They’d called him shit-head around the police station for months! He makes her angry faster than anyone else she’s ever met…

On the other hand…her mind is flooded of images of him making faces at Fred, hugging Tom, laughing at Daisy’s stories, reaching for her from his hospital bed…

Is she really considering this? Starting… _something_ …with Alec Hardy? Was that even what he was asking her for?

By the time Fred and Tom are awake, she’s not feeling any more certain of her feelings than she had when Alec had left. She manages to fix eggs for the boys but she’s incredibly distracted. She can’t figure out what she wants, can’t figure out what to tell him. As soon as the boys have had some breakfast, she retreats back into her room.

 _You asked him to stay_ , a voice whispers.

She had, and she still wants him to stay. But…in what capacity?

_You can’t picture life without him. Not if you’re honest._

Okay, that’s true enough. Her brain will not let her pursue the thought of his absence from her life. That means something, doesn’t it? She’s been turning to him for months, trusting him with the deepest, darkest side of her. She trusts him more than anyone else in her life, and she cares for him as much as she’s ever cared for anyone. His need to protect her is something she understands because she feels the same need.

Alright, so she cares about him. But…does she _want_ him?

The answer comes quick, far quicker than she expected it to. She thinks about him turning down the woman in the bar, thinks of his intense eyes, the way he puts on his tie, the belt that’s still coiled up in her bedroom, thinks of him shirtless in her sitting room in the wee hours of the morning, thinks of him stepping over her threshold to stop just inches from her…and she realizes that, yes. She wants him. She’s wanted him for a little while now, without really realizing it.

Her heart is hammering again. She reaches for her phone with trembling fingers and tries to call him.

There’s no answer. Not the first time or the second time.

“Oh, well done, Ellie. Way to cock this all up,” she mutters.

“Mum!” Tom’s voice drifts through her closed door. “Where’s my football uniform? I’m going out to practice!”

“In the dryer!” she calls back, still distracted by the implications of her own thoughts, and by the fact that Alec is not answering his phone. A few minutes later, she hears the front door slam as Tom leaves.

She dresses and goes out to get Fred. Alec’s coat is still lying across her bed, his belt still on her dresser. He may not be answering her calls, but it will be much harder to ignore her when she’s on his doorstep.

**-AE-**

He isn’t in.

Ellie stands there, hoping for some indication that she’s wrong, but there’s not a hint of life around the tiny little flat. Alec isn’t home and neither is Daisy.

She sits down on the little step in front of the door, staring at Fred in his pram. The toddler is cooing happily at the world around him, fascinated with the glint of sun off of the water or else with the birds that are fluttering down to roost in a nearby tree.

She covers her face with her hands. Is it possible that he’s left Broadchurch for good? The idea that he might have cuts her deeply, and her throat swells.

“Oh, God, Fred. I’m such an idiot. I really am,” she says. “Why didn’t I just go after him last night?”

She drags herself back to her feet, feeling her lack of sleep keenly now, and decides there’s nothing else to do but head home again and hope that at some point, Alec answers his phone. She starts back down the street, wishing she could go back to the day before, when they had all been together celebrating Alec’s birthday, watching him reluctantly make a wish and accept gifts—

—gifts like a football jersey. So he could practice with Tom.

Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of it the second Tom had left?

“Last chance,” she says to herself, and she changes direction. She doesn’t run to the football field, but she wants to.

**-AE-**

He’s there. He’s running across the field, rushing to meet Tom as her son attempts to slip around him for a goal. He’s wearing his new football jersey, and when Tom spins around him and makes the shot, he smiles broadly and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Well done!” she hears him say, and Tom is beaming up at him with pride.

Warmth spreads through her at the sight. It isn’t quite strong enough to overpower her intense nervousness, but it does give her the courage to keep crossing through the grass toward them. Alec looks up from Tom’s triumphant face and spots her as she wheels Fred closer. His shoulders stiffen a bit but he stays put.

“Tom,” Ellie says, “would you mind taking your brother for a few minutes?”

Tom starts to protest – he wants to keep playing – but he quickly realizes that there won’t be anymore football practice today until they’re done dealing with…well, whatever they’re dealing with. He takes Fred’s pram and pushes it toward a nearby sidewalk, promising not to go out of sight.

“You ran away last night,” she says when her son is out of earshot. Alec tugs on his earlobe.

“I…” He takes a breath. “It hurt.”

“I thought you’d left town.”

“I thought about it.”

She stares at him for a long moment, her hands on her hips as she takes in his face. His expression is shuttered. He’s trying not to let his nervousness show, but she knows him too well by now.

“It’s…it’s a bit soon for me, Alec. I trust you, but…I wasn’t even thinking about a…a _relationship_. Not with anyone. And I’m not divorced yet. And there’s still Joe’s legal team to deal with.”

“I understand.” His tone is even, careful. His eyes are a dead giveaway though: she can see that he’s starting to think maybe this won’t all be bad news.

“You’ve got to promise to stay. I won’t even consider… _this_ …unless you’re staying. And that’s not just for me. It’s for Tom and Fred too.”

He nods. His eyes are warming as she speaks, and they are an impossibly rich brown in the clear morning light. She shivers a little at the sight of them, and oh yes, she wants him. Standing before her in a football jersey with his hair disheveled from the practice match with her son, staring at her with those eyes…yes, she wants him very much. How she hadn’t noticed before is astounding.

He sees her shiver and his gaze dips to her mouth. Suddenly those eyes of his aren’t just warm, they’re hot. It’s breathtaking to realize that he wants her too.

She’s not ready yet…not yet…but the desire for him to kiss her is so intense that it’s a fire in her blood. She takes a deep breath to try and cool herself down.

“Okay, good. I’m glad. Because I care about you too, Alec.”

He reaches for her, pulls her into his chest hard. She wasn’t expecting it and it catches her off guard, but then she puts her cheek against his chest. She can hear his heart pounding under her ear, just as hard as hers, but his lips are gentle as he brushes them over her temple.

“Ellie...” His voice is quiet, tight with emotion. “When you’re ready…I’ll be here.”

She buries her face in his chest to hide her sudden tears and holds him tightly for a moment, because she knows he will be. He always has been.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't an action-packed chapter but we are now in the stages of wrapping up the first part of this story and setting up for the second. Still not sure if I'm going to separate the two parts or keep it all together, but I'll be sure to let everyone know ahead of time.

In the morning, Ellie drops Tom at school and Fred at child care before going over to pick up Alec and Daisy. She'd offered to take them to the train station so she could see Daisy off before she headed back north, and while she's glad for the opportunity to say goodbye, she's feeling suddenly nervous as she drives through town toward Alec's flat. It's a school-girlish reaction and she knows it, but she can't seem to keep a stray butterfly or two from twirling around her stomach.

She parks and walks up to the door, then goes back to the car before she can knock because she's left his coat in the passenger seat. By the time she makes it up to the door again, it's already swinging open. Daisy comes out to greet her, pulling her into the flat's tiny kitchen by her hand.

"Thank you so much for driving us," she's saying to Ellie. There's a very satisfied smile on her face and Ellie realizes that she must know what has happened between her and Alec. She feels her face heat up, which only makes Daisy smile wider.

"It's no problem," she replies as Daisy sets about pouring her a cup of tea.

"Dad'll be out in a moment. He let me shower first."

"He'll miss you," Ellie says.

"I'll miss him. And you. But now we can Skype. And you can join in sometimes! I'd love to hear from you. And you can tell me how Dad's really doing, since all he ever tells me is that he's fine."

"I _am_ fine," Alec says from behind them.

"For now," Daisy shoots back. She passes him a mug of tea and he accepts it with a grateful sigh.

"Will you be back down?" Ellie asks.

"I hope so, next time there's a break in term. Mum might not like it. But I'm sure we can work something out."

"You're welcome any time, love," Alec tells her. "So long as your mum is alright with it."

They finish their tea and head to the car, and the drive to the train station is quiet. None of them are looking forward to parting. Seeing Alec with his daughter has been very eye-opening, and Daisy makes everything brighter, more fun. Ellie wishes she could stay for longer than a weekend, and for Alec it must be especially hard to watch her leave again.

Ellie embraces Daisy on the platform. "Text me or call any time," she says as Daisy pulls away. "Seriously."

"I will," Daisy promises. Then, with a small smile, she adds, "Take care of my dad." She turns to him before Ellie can stammer a reply. Alec wraps her up in his arms and kisses her forehead.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, but we'll talk, I promise. I'll Skype you when I get home."

"Good. I love you, darling."

"I love you too, Dad." Daisy rises up on her toes to kiss her dad's cheek, and then she climbs onto the train. Alec and Ellie stand side by side on the platform until the train leaves. He is quiet as they walk back to the car, and she doesn't try to fill the silence. She knows he's thinking of Daisy and she takes the time to fortify herself for the next round of testimony as they head for the courthouse.

She parks but before they get out of the car, he reaches over and takes her hand. She looks over at him and his eyes are already on her face. He gives her fingers a squeeze and then releases her and they both climb out of the car and walk to the courthouse. Her hand is still warm from his and she focuses on that as they plow their way through the press.

**-AE-**

Watching Lucy's testimony that day proves to be especially frustrating. When she said that it had definitely been Joe she'd seen, Ellie could have happily throttled her, and she and Hardy had exchanged looks of wordless annoyance. By the time they break for lunch, all Ellie wants to do is be far away from it all. She thinks maybe a beach in the south of France would be far enough. It's been ages since she's had a vacation, and she finds herself actually considering the idea of going away for a while after the trial is over. Depending on the outcome, she might go away for a long while.

Before Alec can join her at the coffee cart, Beth appears. There is fire in her eyes as she walks up, and Ellie braces herself. Whatever's coming will not be pleasant, and she opens her mouth to ask what's wrong when Beth knocks the coffee out of her hands. It splashes them both as it hits the ground.

"It's true, isn't it?"

"What?" Ellie asks. She doesn't want to anger Beth further, but there doesn't seem to be way to avoid it.

"You and him, your _affair_. I saw you on the football pitch yesterday."

"No, Beth, I promise you, we never had an affair—"

Beth isn't listening. "If we lose this case, I swear to God Ellie, I will make your life the living hell that your family has made mine."

Mark grabs her then, steering her away, leaving Ellie feeling a bit shaken. She watches as the Latimers move away from her. She can't tell if she's shocked or angry, but she does know she's absolutely sick of all the accusations.

Alec stops at her side. "All right?" he asks, handing her a new coffee.

She looks up at him and his lips tighten. He doesn't touch her – there are too many people watching – but she can see he wants to comfort her. She gives him a small, tight smile.

"Thanks for the coffee," she tells him.

"Come on, your turn to buy the chips," he replies, and she follows him away from the rest of the town. She wonders if she'll ever feel like one of them again.

**-AE-**

At the end of the day, Alec and Ellie part ways. Ellie heads into town to pick up Fred. It's there that she runs into Elaine Jenkinson. Her uniform is as sharp and crisp as ever, and Ellie recognizes the determined look on her face. She braces herself because she isn't sure what to expect. She hasn't spoken to Elaine since taking her absence from the force.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Jenkinson asks as she draws near. Ellie nods with a slight feeling of trepidation. The two women begin strolling down the High Street.

"I've heard that you're looking for a new position."

"I can't stay on leave forever," Ellie replies. She's cautious. "I've been trying to decide if I want to be police or not."

"There's a spot for you here."

"Hardy's spot, you mean."

"Not anymore. And you've been waiting for a DI position for a long time. You know the police here and you know the people. You're a good cop, and we could use your experience. It could help you get back on your feet in the community," Jenkinson says.

"No one here would listen to me. They all think that I either knew Joe was the killer and covered it up, or that I had an affair with my boss, or both." Ellie shakes her head. "It's a bad idea."

"They could hardly think you had an affair with former DI Hardy if you came back to work for me. Everyone knows I wouldn't stand for it. And anyway, I've offered to give testimony about your professional character."

It is the first kind thing she's heard from someone other than Alec and Daisy today, and Ellie feels a bit warmer as they continue to walk. Still, she is very certain that this return to the Broadchurch police – and the promotion – will not be looked upon favorably.

Well….maybe she doesn't care anymore. She has wanted to be a DI for a long time.

"I'll think about it," she tells Jenkinson. The other woman nods and they part ways. Ellie carries Fred back to her car and drives home, her mind fixed on the future for once.

**-AE-**

"She offered you DI?"

It's late. Ellie is curled up in bed with her phone pressed against her ear. She can tell Alec is in bed too, she can hear his sheets rustling when he moves. He doesn't sound sleepy, however. Ellie is certain that she sounds exhausted, but she had wanted to tell him without the benefit of a large and somewhat hostile audience

"She did. She said I was a good cop. She also said that it would help discourage the rumors of an affair."

He's quiet for a while. Ellie closes her eyes and sinks into her pillow.

"Do you want it?" he asks her.

"I don't know," she tells him honestly. "I've wanted to be DI for a long time, but…I'm not sure if it's a good idea to be police in Broadchurch again."

"I understand." He pauses. "I think you should take it if you want it. You need a job and you've earned this one. This is your home, and this trial doesn't change that. You don't want to let them chase you away."

He is speaking from experience, of course, and she curls her fingers into her blankets. She decides to change the subject.

"Did Daisy make it home okay?"

"She did. I'm to log onto Skype at 6pm sharp tomorrow. I might have to ask Tom for help," he admits, and she laughs.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to," she says. "I should get some sleep, I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Another long day tomorrow," Alec agrees. "Get your rest."

"See you in the morning?"

"Aye. Goodnight, Ellie."

"Goodnight, Alec."

She ends the call and snuggles deeper into bed, feeling calmer after their conversation. She pictures him rolling over and getting comfortable as well, and falls asleep still mulling over his advice.

**-AE-**

When she gets to his flat in the morning, he looks proud of himself. She enters his flat, repressing the urge to glance over her shoulder and see if they're being watched. They still haven't done anything more than admit they care for each other and hug, and that's not something she feels she should be ashamed of. She refuses to act like she is.

He hands her a mug and she glances down at it. Then the aroma hits her.

"I bought coffee," he tells her.

"But after the operation, you're not supposed to drink coffee for a few more weeks…"

He gives her a look, the one that means he thinks she's gone a bit daft, and then it dawns on her: he hasn't bought it for himself.

"Oh. Thank you," she says, and she takes a sip so she can hide her pink cheeks behind the mug. There's a strange tension in the room, but it's not uncomfortable. In fact, it's a little exciting. She can tell he feels it too because he won't stop moving. She bites her lip to keep from smiling. This…whatever it is between them…it's unexpected and it's probably crazy…but she's enjoying it.

"Will you take the job?" he asks her.

"I'm not sure yet." She shakes her head. "What will you do?"

"Ah…well, Jenkinson has asked me to train the new recruits. It's not exciting work, but it will pay the bills until I recover. We'll see about the rest later."

"You'll hate it," Ellie tells him, quite certain. One corner of his mouth turns up in a wry half-smile.

"Oh, aye," he agrees, "but I'll do it anyway."

"Those recruits are in for a nasty surprise," she says, and laughs as he throws a dishtowel at her. She notices, however, that he doesn't argue the point. The thought of those poor, fresh-faced police at the mercy of Alec Hardy entertains her all the way to the courthouse.

**-AE-**

They're recessing from a morning of expert testimony. They walk outside and Alec checks his phone. A shadow passes over his face quickly. Before Ellie can ask him if he's alright, he turns away from her and calls someone.

She lingers a bit behind him, curious. She knows she shouldn't eavesdrop, but the thunderous look on his face makes it hard for her to resist.

"I got your text message," he's saying. He's gone all gravelly again. "Are you certain?"

There's a pause as the person on the other end of the line answers.

"When?" he asks, and there's a second, shorter pause.

"Alright. Thank you. No, that's alright, I'm not sure if there will be a follow up. Let him be for now." He hangs up and lets out a long, slow breath.

"What was that about?" Ellie asks him. He glances at her over his shoulder.

"Not sure," he replies. His tone implies very heavily that she should drop the subject. She bristles slightly, though she knows there's a strong possibility it's none of her business. His expression softens a little as he watches her struggle with whether or not to tell him to sod off then.

"I've just had some news about a person I was looking out for, that's all. I'll explain later, but not here," he tells her.

She nods, not quite satisfied, but willing to wait for more information. They wonder over to the coffee cart and that's when they get one more unpleasant little bomb dropped on them. Maggie Radcliffe joins them, looking frazzled.

"Ellie, I am so sorry. I had no idea." She passes over her phone, and Ellie immediately sees what she's talking about.

**Joe Miller Responds To Accusation of Wife's Affair** reads the headline on the _Broadchurch Echo_ 's website. The by-line is a name she knows all too well. 

Oliver Stevens. 

A shockwave rolls through Ellie's system. The audacity of it is breathtaking. Alec scans the headline from over her shoulder and makes a disgusted noise. 

"What the hell is this?" he demands, and Maggie looks deeply embarrassed. 

"I really didn't know. I haven't seen him since day before yesterday. I'm trying to get it taken down, but…I'm afraid most of the town has seen it already." 

Ellie hands Maggie's phone back. Her hands are numb with shock. He's her nephew, for fuck's sake! But then he's already proven himself to be ruthless when in pursuit of a story. 

"I could kick him in the balls, I really could," she groans, covering her face in her hands. 

"That'd be a mercy, compared to what I'd like to do to him," Alec snaps. There's a pause as they both gather themselves. They're in full view of the rest of the town, all of them packed around the same courtyard while waiting for the trial to resume. This is not the time to lose it. 

"I've half a mind to give them something to stare at," she says, her expression fierce as her hands drop from her face. Alec shoots her a quick look and there's a lot of heat in that one brief glance. It sends a shiver down her spine. 

_Not ready_ , she reminds herself. But she's starting to think she'd like to be soon. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter of the story so far, and it doesn't move the plot forward very much. I am fairly confident, however, that you will all forgive me once you've finished reading it. And if you don't forgive me, well…I'm not making any apologies. (On a serious note, we're kind of in the eye of the storm, so things will get tough again…just not in this chapter.)
> 
> Uh, just so you know, I wrote the last half of this without any air because I couldn't breathe.
> 
> Right then…nearly plotless fluff ahead, you've been warned!

It takes a while, but Oliver finally opens the door when he realizes that Ellie is not going to leave the doorstep until she's seen him. He already looks as though he's a child who has misbehaved, but Ellie has seen this expression on his face too often to be taken in by it anymore.

"You cannot be serious, Oliver!" She shoves her phone into his face. She's saved a picture of his article and his headline is screaming at him from the screen. "What kind of drivel is this? Have you been talking to Joe in prison?"

"I went to you first!" Now he's defensive, but it only heightens Ellie's impatience with him. "You wouldn't talk to me about it, but he wanted to."

"Joe murdered a _child_. He's trying to get out of prison. _Why_ did you waste your time talking to him?"

"I have a job. That job is to sell the news. This is news, Aunt Ellie! I'm sorry, but it is."

"You and I are family, Oliver. And you know that this isn't true." She shakes her head, her disappointment evident on her face. "This is serious. You can't just ignore your moral compass because you're trying to get on the payroll of a national syndicate. Hardy and I had a professional relationship and if people start to question that, they'll start to question the work we did on the case. And then Joe goes free. You can't want that to happen, not when he's guilty!"

"Is he guilty?" Oliver's eyes are cool as he appraises his aunt. "Are you sure?"

"He confessed."

"Maggie took the story down anyway. There's nothing more I can do." He doesn't comment further on Joe's guilt. He shuts the door in her face with a quick, insincere, "Sorry."

She considers knocking again, but what good would it do? Still fuming, she heads back to her car. She should have realized that Oliver would never learn his lesson. She used to think his ambitions were admirable, but she doesn't think so anymore. He spins pretty words around harsh facts…she wonders if he thinks about Jack Marshall from time to time. She wishes he'd think about Jack more.

She drives home to see her boys.

**-AE-**

When she gets there, there's an envelope waiting in the mail for her. It's from the Wessex Crown Court, but it isn't about Joe's trial. It's about her divorce. She hadn't expected it to be over for a little while longer—she knows sometimes the process takes months—but apparently the judge had recognized the names on the documents and had signed off on them quickly.

"I'm divorced," she whispers. It sounds weird, it feels weirder. She walks into her kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. She hasn't had a glass of wine by herself at home in a long time, but the occasion seems to call for it.

She drinks the wine quickly. She's Ellie Bryant now, or will be if she changes her name. Tom and Fred Bryant…those don't sound too bad. And Bryant is a common name in Devon, one of the most common surnames in the area. It might lend her sons some anonymity until the name "Miller" disappears from the news feeds.

She wonders if Tom will mind if his name changes and decides she'd better ask him before making any final decisions. She isn't too keen on keeping her married name, but Tom might feel differently. Miller has always been his name, after all, and he's been through a lot lately.

She sends Alec a text. It's a quick one because she isn't sure how she's feeling. Relieved, yes…but sad, too. She'd meant it when she'd told him that she was good at being married. So her message is just the bare fact: **The divorce is finalized**.

She pours herself a second glass of wine. She's single. She'd never expected to be single again. She supposes 'single' is a relative term, considering everything that's transpired between her and Alec lately, but still…legally, she is no longer bound to anyone in matrimony.

Alec's response comes a bit later. **Daisy sends her love You okay?**

She thinks for a while. Yes, she's okay. Better than that. Distancing herself from Joe is a breath of fresh air. **I'm okay** , she responds, and she means it.

She spends the rest of the evening playing with Fred and helping Tom with his homework. After the toddler is asleep, she and Tom sit on the couch and face each other.

"Your father and I are divorced now," she tells him.

He's quiet for a long time. He'd known that Ellie had filed for the divorce and he hadn't said much about it at the time. He looks a bit shocked now, but he nods after a few long, silent moments.

"Okay," he says.

"Are you alright?" Ellie puts her hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me if you're not."

"I dunno." His shoulders lift and fall. "I dunno what to think. I get why but…it's still…"

"That's alright, you know…to feel conflicted about it. It's perfectly okay to feel that way." She pauses. "I'm thinking of going back to my old name, to Bryant. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd like you to think about it, alright?"

Tom nods, lost in his own thoughts. When he asks to go upstairs for a while, she lets him. It's a lot to process and she's got to give him the space to do it, even if she wants to crush him to her chest and coddle him. He's too old for that, and she knows he's more likely to come to her if she's patient.

Still, she misses him while he's upstairs, locked away in his room and dealing with this latest news on his own.

She turns on the telly but doesn't really pay attention to it. Her thoughts are drifting, and she doesn't focus on any of them for too long. The two glasses of wine are doing their part to help her keep from dwelling on anything for longer than a moment or two. It's not an unpleasant sensation after her sit-down with Tom.

There's a quiet knock on her door. She glances at her clock – it's nine at night – and for a moment she wonders if it's Oliver, come to apologize.

It isn't. It's Alec and he's got a bottle of wine.

"I wasn't sure if you were celebrating or not," he says as he hands it over, just as awkwardly as the very first time he stood on her doorstep. She can't help but smile a little as she takes the bottle and ushers him in.

"You pop it, I'll get down another glass," she says. She doesn't know if she's celebrating – she isn't sure if it's the right word – but she is closing one very painful chapter of her life. That's something to toast to.

"Boys are in bed?" he asks as he gets to work on uncorking the bottle.

"Well, I'm not sure if Tom's asleep yet, but he's in his room. Fred's been out for hours." She sets the glasses on the counter so he can pour. "Not too much for me, thanks, I've already had two."

He lifts an amused eyebrow at her and she shrugs. He hands her a glass once he's finished pouring.

"To…me," Ellie says, and Alec considers this very seriously. His eyes are warm as he looks at her.

"To you," he agrees, and touches his glass to hers. They take the bottle into the sitting room. She's surprised when he settles next to her on the couch instead of in the chair across from it, but she doesn't say anything. The TV is still on but she turns the volume down.

"How do you feel?" he asks at last. He's curious more than concerned, although she can see that concern is there too.

"Strange." She considers all the possible answers to his question. "Free. Sad. Relieved."

"Any regrets?"

"So many." A sad little laugh escapes her. "But not about the divorce. That had to happen."

His hand touches hers for a moment, just a brush of fingers against the back of her palm. There's a second's hesitation, and then he settles his hand over hers completely. She looks over at him, trying to guess what he's thinking. His walls are down but she still can't be sure what's going through his mind.

"Ellie," he says. His voice is so soft. And just like that, with just the sound of her name, her sadness is being replaced by something else—something a little breathless—as she keeps looking into his eyes. Her heart has picked up the pace, but gently. She can feel her breathing growing shallow as they stare at each other.

The fingers of his free hand brush over her cheek, and she can't even manage a shallow breath when he does it. Anticipation is uncurling low in her belly and it's quickly filling her entire body, but she still doesn't move. She's frozen, afraid to break the delicate atmosphere that's building between them.

His pulse is erratic, but for the first time she's not worried about his heart.

His fingers curl around the back of her neck and he pulls her closer. He draws her in gently, giving her time to pull away if she needs to. She doesn't even try. Instead, her eyes slip closed as his lips cover hers.

It's gentle, a test more than anything else. Just a taste.

She draws in a quick, shuddering breath as he pulls back a mere centimeter. At the sound of it, Alec tugs her in again with a throaty noise. It's pure want, that noise, and it sends her pulse skyrocketing as one of her hands buries itself in his hair. Her lips part beneath his as his arms coax her closer, pressing her firmly against his chest. The sweetness of a moment earlier is being replaced by need, and his hands are sliding over her sides and into her hair while she grips his shirt and pants against his mouth. He catches her lip between his teeth, tugging gently, and she forgets all about not being ready.

He pulls back for air and then his mouth is moving over her jaw, and she can't catch her breath when he's doing that. His thick scruff is scraping across her skin, but that's only adding to the excitement. He continues for a few blissful moments, but eventually she can feel him forcing himself to slow down, to breathe.

"We canna," he says, his breath uneven against her neck. Lust has thickened his accent. "The boys are upstairs. Tom could come down."

She nods, still trying to get air into her lungs. He lifts his head from her neck, and as he sits back, he places one more quick kiss to her swollen lips. It's a sweet one, and it makes her heart tighten up.

"You're right," she says, and her voice is breathless. He curls his hands into fists and takes a few deep, steadying gulps of air.

Christ, she had no idea he had _that_ in him. But then, he's a passionate man…why wouldn't that apply to other areas as well?

"I should go," he says. He looks over at her. "I only meant to see how you were doing."

She doesn't want him to go but she nods and they get up. She collects the wine glasses and puts them in the kitchen, and he waits for her by the door. They're both stalling a little bit.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she asks.

He nods. His fingers brush over her upper arm.

"Tomorrow," he agrees, and after kissing her cheek, he heads home. Ellie watches him go and, when he's moved out of sight, she heads into her bedroom. Her stomach flips as she relives the kiss once she's snug under her covers (how long has it been since she's been kissed like _that?_ ), and she sleeps better than she has in ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for sticking with me through the slow burn! Hope this made up for it a little bit. And there's more to come… I have lots of good stuff planned, we're not done yet! :)


	15. Chapter 15

Ellie wakes up in a good mood. No, a _great_ mood. She knows it isn't likely to last once she gets to the courthouse, but she relishes it while it lasts. She showers and dresses, pausing to smile at herself in the mirror. She's acting a bit daft, she knows, but in private she indulges herself a bit. Her cheeks turn pink when she remembers Alec's kiss, and she nearly forgets her purse on her way out to pick him up.

"Morning," she chirps as she enters his flat.

"Not till I've had my tea," he replies, but there's a smile in his eyes as she moves past him. He's not much of a morning person, but she's grinning enough for the both of them. He gives her shoulder and gentle squeeze as he slips around her to fix them both a drink. She takes her coffee with a grateful sigh. He sips at his tea and watches her over the rim of his mug. The silence is comfortable and relaxing, and she can't keep from smiling to herself.

After drinking about half the mug, he leans over and kisses the corner of her mouth. She shivers, surprised by this gesture. The scrape of his whiskers sends a little thrill through her.

"Good morning," he says, his voice still a little rough with sleep. She chuckles, amused by the fact that it takes him so long to warm up to the idea of a new day.

"Good morning," she agrees, and they finish their drinks and head to the car.

**-AE-**

They sit through more testimony. In recent days, Ellie's hopes had risen when Susan Wright was destroyed on the stand, and the news that Joe won't testify in his own defense is actually good for them. But Nige's testimony is a disaster. Her head is spinning as she and Alec walk out of the courthouse in the afternoon.

"This is a mess," she tells him. "What do you think they're up to…think they're trying to suggest that _Mark_ killed Danny? And that Nige helped him cover his tracks?"

"To be honest, I'm surprised it hasn't come up sooner. There's a reason I was after him for so long," Alec replies, lost in thought.

Ellie sighs because he's right, and even after Joe confessed, they never could account for Mark's whereabouts for the entire evening. Her good mood has all but evaporated. And then of course there's the fact that she has to see Joe every single time they enter that room. That doesn't help her regain her positive outlook, either.

"There's nothing we can do about it." It doesn't sound as though Alec particularly relishes that fact, but Ellie doesn't either. Before he can say more, his phone goes off. He checks it and a deep frown creases his forehead.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Not here," he tells her. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. Ellie stares at him, her brow furrowed.

"I've heard that before," she reminds him. She can see that his patience is thin: whatever was in that message is troubling him.

"Miller, this isn't the time or place."

" _Bryant._ "

"Sorry?"

"Not Miller anymore, remember?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "Sir."

It's not technically true: she's still a Miller in the eyes of the government. But she still thinks her point is fair, and she can see she's made it well. He winces for just a second as her meaning sinks in, and he nods.

"Bryant. _Bryant._ " He's trying it out. It triggers a remarkably strong memory of her asking him to call her by her given name during their first few days together. His conclusion is the same as well. "No, I don't think I can call you that. I'll stick to Ellie."

"That's a change of tune," she mutters, but she's actually privately pleased. The look he gives her is slightly exasperated, but he doesn't rise to the bait.

"I'm having it out of you, by the way." She gestures to the pocket he's shoved his phone into. His jaw tightens, but he doesn't argue. She likes to think that's because he knows she's right.

"Tonight, after Tom's asleep," he says. "Now will you stop nagging me about it?"

"Probably not," she replies cheerily as they head for the car. They don't get very far, however, before Alec spots Oliver. Before she can stop him, he's crossed half of the distance between them. She recognizes his expression and it's not good: it's the one that earned him his infamous "shit-face" nickname. She hurries to catch up to him.

Olly sees him coming and comes to an abrupt halt, looking acutely distressed.

"Oi, I want a word with you," Hardy snaps.

"I don't have anything to say to you—" Oliver starts, but Hardy cuts him off.

"Good, you can bloody well listen for once." He stops in front of the younger man and the fury in his eyes is intimidating. It's been a while since Ellie has seen him really riled up like this. Instinctively, she feels bad for Oliver, but that passes quickly as she remembers him shutting the door in her face.

"Ever since I've met you, you've been an annoyingly pretentious bastard. Worse, you've actually told yourself you're doing everyone a service while peddling your utter horseshit. Well, I'm not having it anymore, Oliver." There is a chill rolling off him that keeps Oliver frozen to the sidewalk under him. "What you're doing, going against your family, that's bad enough. But worse, you're undermining a murder investigation and jeopardizing the conviction – a conviction which this whole town is hoping for. And for what? A few more clicks on your fucking website?"

Oliver starts to protest, but Hardy gets right into his face, and there is real menace in his expression.

"One more word out of you, and I don't care that the whole town is watching. I'll lay you out right here, and I hope Maggie puts _that_ in your damned paper."

He turns his back on the other man and walks back toward the car park. His shoulders are still tight with unresolved fury. Ellie stares at Oliver for another minute, but without pity. In fact, she almost wishes that Alec _had_ punched him.

She turns and heads toward her car without a word to her nephew.

**-AE-**

The rest of the afternoon and evening pass slowly. Despite starting the day in such a buoyant mood, she's starting to seriously worry about the trial. She knows that they're getting close to the final testimonies in the case, and after that there will be closing arguments. Her confidence had fled when Joe's confession had been tossed out, and any remaining hope she'd retained had been taking a severe battering in court.

She sighs and hopes that Jocelyn has a hidden ace up her sleeve. She also hopes that Sharon hasn't made it impossible for the jurors to agree about Joe's guilt. It's a lot to hope for, and her shoulders sag a bit as she realizes that fact.

This town might fall to pieces if he isn't convicted. It's all so far out of her control, but she can't help but worry about it.

Eventually ten o' clock rolls around, and with it, Alec arrives. She lets him in with a finger to her lips, indicating that the boys are sleeping. Well, she hopes Tom is sleeping. She sent him to bed a half hour ago.

He settles himself on her couch while she fixes tea for them both.

"Ta," he says quietly when she hands him a steaming mug. She moves to sit across from the couch in the nearby chair, but he catches her wrist before she's out of his reach. She still isn't sure exactly what is comfortable between them on a physical level, but he gently tugs her down onto the couch next to him. They sit turned slightly toward one another, knees brushing, and she takes a deep breath.

"Do you think Joe is going to be convicted?"

He isn't expecting this topic as an opener. He was probably ready to start explaining about the texts he's been getting, but she needs to know what he thinks about the trial. She knows Alec will tell her the truth, even if it's hard to hear.

He stares at her a moment while he thinks. Finally, he says, "I can't tell. The defense has done a rather good job of muddying things up. It's up to the jury, and it's hard to tell what they're thinking."

She nods, her chest constricting. He's echoing her exact thoughts, thoughts which scare her. What will she do if Joe walks out of that courtroom a free man?

His hand settles on her knee.

"You'll never face him alone again, Ellie."

She meets his gaze. Whatever it is between them, whatever course they started down after he confessed his feelings for her, she knows he means it. She's never met anyone as loyal as Alec Hardy, and his promise is as good as a vow. Her throat swells and he gives her leg a light squeeze.

"You're going soft," he tells her. "I've been here for ten minutes and you haven't badgered me to death about my text messages."

"Don't think I won't!" she shoots back, her voice still a little husky. She swallows and tries again. "Seriously, what's going on? Why do you always look so pissed when you check your phone?"

He sits back and stares hard at the surface of his tea. His expression is closing off and she can tell he doesn't want to say, but he's promised that he will. She fights the urge to press him harder about it. It takes an effort as the silence stretches between them.

"It's about Sandbrook," he says at last.

Her face darkens. "I knew it. I knew you hadn't dropped it completely."

"Ellie, I _can't_ drop it completely." He looks up at her again, his brows drawn. "Look, I'm not going to let myself get drawn into it the way I was before. And anyway, nothing's really happened. I just got a tip about someone I was keeping tabs on, that's all."

He's too defensive already.

"What tip?" she asks.

He shifts uncomfortably. "The main suspect, Lee Ashworth. He's been in France since the case fell apart. He's come back to England now."

"When?"

"Two days ago, when I got the first text." He pauses. "I thought he'd…I thought he'd try and get in contact with his wife, or with Cate and Ricky Gillespie, but he hasn't. Until he makes a move, all I can do is wait. And he might not even make a move."

His tone suggests that he seriously doubts that last part.

"Alec, tell me you're not going to chase after him. We've got enough to deal with here, with the trial."

He looks her in the eyes. "I'm not going to chase him."

"Promise? Until the trial is over?"

"I promise," he says, and if his tone is a little begrudging, she doesn't hold it against him. She lets out a long sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she says. They sit together for a few quiet moments after that, drinking their tea. He sets aside his empty mug and stares at her for a while.

"Are you alright with what happened last night?" he asks her, and there's a flash of something she hasn't seen from him before. He's almost…shy?

"You mean, with you snogging me senseless?" she asks him, trying to sound innocent and not as though she's enjoying this very rare opportunity to make him squirm. To her delight, he actually does squirm, shifting against the cushions of her couch with a wince. After a moment, however, her words truly sink in. He starts to smile, a teasing grin which is growing wider as all of a sudden, it's her turn to squirm.

"Senseless, was it?" he asks, his voice uncharacteristically mischievous. More and more, she thinks she's glimpsing the man he was before Sandbrook. She'd like to explore further, but she has her dignity to salvage first.

"Oi, don't get cocky." She tosses a pillow at him. "I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."

"Hmmm." He shifts toward her, leaning into her space, and her breathing goes shallow again. She curses her body for betraying her so easily.

"Anyway, I'm still cross at you."

"Are you?" he asks softly as his head dips toward her neck.

"Yes," she says, but her voice is weak and she lets out an involuntary gasp as his lips brush her throat. He trails kisses over her jaw to her lips, and damn it, he's good at this. She knows she should be fighting him, not letting him win her over so easily, but her brain isn't processing much at the moment except for the feeling of his lips moving against her skin.

"Hardy," she mutters, frustrated with his slow progress.

"Mm?"

"Kiss me already."

He does, capturing her lips as he pulls her closer. She curls her fingers into the collar of his shirt at the back of his neck, giving as good as she gets. She's determined not to be the only one left senseless this time.

He pulls away suddenly, and there's a very smug look on his face which she is about to give him hell for. Then she realizes why he's pulled away. She's spilled the last of her tea all over her lap and onto his legs.

"I'm not hearing the end of this, am I?" she groans. His answering smile is slow and evil.

"Not for a while, no," he tells her, and she retreats into the kitchen for dishtowels so they can clean up…but also to hide her furiously red cheeks.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Anna saved the day again!** We're finally nearing the end of Convalescence and was only possible for me to finish this chapter because she helped me out! She's amazing!
> 
> I've decided that **there will be a separate sequel to Convalescence**. It will pick up exactly where Conva leaves off, but the story will be headed in a new and more action-y (well, I like to hope so) direction. Also this gives me the chance to write a while from Hardy's POV, and I'm looking forward to that! I think that it will be a little clearer why I wanted to do this by the end.
> 
> So, I'm thinking that chapter 17 will be the final chapter of Convalescence and then I'll be starting the sequel, and I hope you keep reading because I could not be writing this without all the support I've received from you. You have kept me going and you've been amazing, I wish I could hug all of you (or have David Tennant give you all hugs, for those of you that are rabid DT fans like myself). THANK YOU!

Ellie knows it's a bad idea, but she still finds herself approaching Maggie early the next morning. The news editor is surprised to see her, but she smiles warmly at Ellie.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"What do you need?" Maggie replies.

"Do you have a copy of Olly's article? The one about Joe?"

Maggie's eyes tighten with sympathy. "Oh, sweetheart, are you sure you want to read that? I'd think it was a bit painful."

Does she want to read it? She doesn't think _want_ is the right word. But she nods and adds an earnest please, and Maggie goes to her computer to print out a copy. This version hasn't been formatted for the Echo's webpage yet, and there are no pictures. Ellie is grateful for that. She thanks Maggie and heads to her car. Then she locks herself in and reads. She ignores most of the article's introduction and skips down to the parts where Olly has quoted Joe talking about her alleged affair.

_"[Hardy] asked me once if she liked working with him. I should have spotted it then, but I never thought that Ellie might actually take to him. But then I heard about her going to his hotel room for two hours…"_

Her hands tremble a bit as she skims to the next part.

 _"She sent divorce papers. It hurt so much, because I…I still love her. I just wanted to see her. But when she came to pick them up, she brought_ him _along..."_

Joe had forced that situation on her, and Alec would never have let her go by herself. She's frustrated by how Joe twisted the events to make it look like he was the wronged party. She can't believe that Olly bothered to write about this stuff. He must know how skewed Joe's perception of events is. She tries to remind herself that her nephew is young and ambitious, but the sting is still there.

She drops the paper onto the passenger seat and starts the car. The trial is set to resume in the afternoon since both solicitors are meeting with the Chief Justice just before. She has the whole morning to herself, and though the temptation to see Alec is strong, she turns her car toward a different destination.

It doesn't take her long to reach the church, and she can see Paul Coates wandering around the building, no doubt taking stock of what upkeep would need to be done over the summer on the old stone building. He's got his iPad with him and his collar on, and Ellie is relieved to see that Becca isn't with him. She parks and gets out of the car. There's a moment where her resolve wavers, and then she starts up the pathway to him.

"Do you have a moment?" she asks. Paul turns, startled, but his smile comes quickly. He's asked after her several times since bringing her the news that Joe had refused to sign the divorce papers, but she's always shrugged him off before.

"Absolutely," he says. "Want to come inside? I've got tea or lemonade," he says. She follows him into the church but doesn't accept a beverage. She doesn't need sugar or caffeine at the moment, she's already wired up without it.

"What's on your mind?" he asks as they settle into his small office.

"I read the article. The one Olly wrote about Joe. And I want to know...you're always talking about forgiveness, and I hate him. Joe, I mean. I hate him and I don't think I could ever stop hating him, so where does it come from? The forgiveness? Because I can't find any."

There, she's said it. Her heart is aching but she's glad she's said it. Paul's eyes are full of compassion.

"It comes from God, Ellie," he tells her. "That sort of forgiveness. It's divine. It's not in our nature, so we have to ask God to help us."

"Well, I don't think I want to forgive him." She crosses her arms.

"We could pray about it, if you'd like," he offers. But she isn't here to appeal to a deity…she just needs to know what a more forgiving soul would do, because she's at a loss. Paul clearly doesn't know what she wants from him. That's alright, then: she isn't sure what she wants from him either.

"Have you thought about…going to see him again? On your own this time, or maybe with me? It might help you let go of some of your hate, if you can tell him what you're feeling."

The thought is so painful that she can't breathe for a moment. "I don't think I can do that," she tells him, and her voice is thin with the effort it takes to speak.

"What can I do to help, Ellie?" Paul asks her, and she can see he truly does want to help her, to help soothe her somehow. He doesn't touch her but his manner is welcoming. She's never much been one for religion, and she's never looked at Paul quite the same after Danny Latimer's death, but he does have an air of serenity to him.

"I guess you better pray for me," she says. "Because I think I'll hate him forever."

She leaves a few minutes later. She drives to the cliffs and climbs to the top to stare out over the water, hoping to find some peace before she has to show up at the courthouse.

**-AE-**

"You read Oliver's article?" Alec is giving her a funny look. It's clear he can't think of a reason she might want to know what was in it, and she sighs.

"I admit it wasn't my brightest idea," she tells him.

They're standing at the coffee cart in front of the courthouse. Her heart is hammering because this should be it. There's just Mark's testimony left, and then they'll move on to closing arguments. Ellie is nervous, shaking like a leaf, and she grips her paper coffee cup like it's a lifeline.

"It'll be alright," Alec tells her. He can see how anxious she is. The glare she gives him speaks volumes. He simply stares back at her patiently and she sighs. She lashes when she doesn't feel in control of things, and he knows that about her by now.

"What if he gets off?" she asks him through slightly gritted teeth. "What if he comes after me or the boys?"

Alec's eyes go cold. "It won't go well for him."

She shivers at that, but before she can ask him more about it, he gets a phone call. He glances down at his phone and jaw tightens.

"More about Ashworth?" she asks, her tone sharp. But Alec shakes his head.

"It's my ex-wife," he tells her. She can tell he's bracing himself as he answers his phone. He turns away from her, and she wonders if he's aware of the fact that he's instinctively curled his shoulders in as though he's protecting himself.

Well, that's not hard to understand.

"Tess, I'm about to head into court."

Ellie can hear the woman's voice, and she can tell that Tess is angry. Alec listens and his face hardens into a grim mask.

"No, I haven't been calling her from a blocked number. Why would I do that? Tess, I'm not trying to trick Daisy into talking to me. We had a video chat the other night."

More angry words from the other end.

"Do you think it's a boy? Someone from school?"

Tess is quieter, probably considering this suggestion.

"Do you want me to come up—Alright, Christ, it's just a suggestion…so file a police report!"

Alec pinches the bridge of his nose as Tess's volume raises. "Of course I'm concerned, I've just offered to come up…you know I'm going to look into it, Tess. If you didn't want me to, why did you call me?" There's another pause and his exasperation gets the better of him: "She's my daughter, of course I'm over-protective! Right, well, you handle it your way and I'll handle it mine. Right. Good talking to you, too."

He ends the call and clutches the mobile, and Ellie is willing to bet that he'd like to chuck it across the patio. He doesn't, but she can see how it takes him an effort to pull himself back together.

"What's that about?"

"Daisy's been getting some strange phone calls from a blocked number. Tess thinks it's a boy, someone that Daisy turned down for a date or a dance or something." He sighs. "She doesn't want me to check on it because she thinks I'll overreact."

Ellie lets out a breath. "Maybe she just thought it was best you know…you are her father. You should know if some kid from school is bothering her."

He opens his mouth to say something else, but they're paged into the courtroom before he can.

**-AE-**

Mark's testimony goes for a while, and it doesn't leave Ellie with a good feeling. She sits, digging her fingernails into her palms while she watches him on the stand. Beside her, Alec's muscles are tense. It is a long, exhausting battle for him. Emotions are high as a short recess is called when he finally climbs out of the box.

Ellie walks out of the courtroom, followed by Alec. She turns to him to ask him what he thinks, but before she can, Jocelyn Knight approaches her like a thunderstorm. She strides right up to Ellie with fury in her eyes.

"You're going to be called to the stand," she says.

"Wait— _what?_ " Ellie is shaken. "What do you mean I'm going to be called to the stand?"

"The defense has uncovered new evidence." Jocelyn's eyes are cool and disappointed. "You should have told me everything."

"What new evidence?" Ellie is wracking her brain, trying to think back to anything she's left out of her reports. Beside her, Alec looks equally baffled.

"What're you on about?" he asks Jocelyn, but the barrister has already turned back to the courtroom. She's in a rush, and Ellie's stomach sinks to her shoes. Whatever's about to happen, it's not going to help their case against Joe.

"Any idea what she's talking about?"

Ellie looks up at Alec and shakes her head. "No, I wish I did, but…" She lifts her empty hands, indicating her confusion.

She doesn't have long to wait. Five minutes later they are called back into court and Ellie takes the stand.

**-AE-**

It is worse than she could have anticipated.

When it becomes clear why she's on the stand – for giving Lucy money as payment for her police report about Joe and perhaps even for perjuring herself in court by naming him definitively – a deep hush falls over the courtroom. Deep anger and deep shame immediately go to war in Ellie and she tries to argue that lending her sister money, and he sister finally filing a police report are two different events. She knows these arguments are falling on deaf ears, and she can hear how desperate she sounds.

At the back of the courtroom, Joe looks as though someone has taken a huge burden off of his shoulders.

Hardy's face is a mask of fury, so harsh that she flinches from the sight of him.

Beth Latimer looks as though she'd like to flay Ellie with her own fingernails, and Jocelyn stares at her with that aloof disappointment which makes it all so much worse.

The jury have taken careful notes, and she knows even as she steps out of the box that they're doomed. She resumes her seat next to Hardy. He doesn't even glance at her. His muscles are locked and rigid.

Closing arguments will commence in two days, and Jocelyn will have to do some desperate damage control. Ellie is certain that it's far too late. She's not the only one.

They're released for the day, and Ellie braces herself to face an irate Beth Latimer. Hardy gets to her first.

"How could you?" he asks her. He is yelling and his voice rings through the reception area of the courthouse. His eyes are molten, they hold hers in thrall. "How could you _give her money?_ "

Ellie stares up at him, not sure what can be said in her defense. Her eyes fill with tears and she hates that.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"She wouldn't tell me otherwise, and you were out of time! You were dying, Alec!"

"You still should have told me." His voice is low and dark, and his eyes even more so.

"I thought it might be important. I just wanted to find Danny's killer." Her lip is wobbling. He stares at her for another long moment and then walks away a few paces, too furious to speak. She turns around in a circle and everyone is staring at her. They all look like they're ready to string her up, and she can't blame them.

She wants to sink into a deep, dark hole. She can make out Paul Coates with the Latimers, speaking to them quietly and urgently, probably trying to calm them down. She almost walks over and lets them have it out at her. She deserves it.

Heart aching, she heads to the lady's room. She's not proud of it, but she needs to hide for a bit.

Hardy stays put, lashing out at anyone who comes near him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s so much to get through that I’m going to need to turn this last bit into two chapters, so there will definitely be a chapter 18 and that will be the final chapter of Convalescence. The next story (no title yet), will pick up immediately after the conclusion of this one.
> 
> SOME HEAVY FLUFF in this chapter. I struggled a lot with the end of this one, mostly because I wasn’t sure how far I wanted to push Alec and Ellie…I think I made the right decision, especially considering the upcoming story. I hope you guys like this chapter and we’re nearly to the end! I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have shared this story with all of you. Thank you, you have been incredible! One more chapter to go!

The bathroom smells strongly of cleaner and cheap air freshener. There's a small amount of graffiti in the stall, which is rather surprising considering the bathrooms are in a courthouse. She thinks it's funny somewhere deep down underneath her misery, but she stifles that feeling. She hugs herself tightly. She feels truly alone for the first time. At least before, Alec had always been at her side. His big brown eyes had hardly ever left her. But now she really is alone, alone and crying in a bathroom. It's a holdover from her school days. She thinks she'll happily stay in this bathroom until the wee hours of the morning, and then she'll sneak home.

It isn't like her to be cowardly, but maybe she's hit the end of her rope. It's hard to tell.

There's the sound of footsteps approaching, probably someone coming to use the loo, and Ellie makes an effort to quiet her tears. She's been humiliated enough today.

There's a pause and then the footsteps come closer, very purposefully.

"You've been ages," Alec says. His tone is unreadable. At least he isn't yelling anymore, but without seeing his expression, she has no idea what's going through his mind.

"Go away."

He falls silent but she can tell he doesn't leave. She decides she's going to wait him out. It takes him about two full minutes to lose patience with this strategy.

"Come out of there, Ellie."

"I won't."

"Bloody stubbornest woman in Britain…" he mutters, and he rattles the door of her stall, making her jump. "I can take this off the hinges, it'd only take a moment."

Well, Christ, that's not fair. Ellie glares at the traitorous door, and then she stands up. She wipes at her eyes and tries to smooth out her slacks and jacket, but it's a lost cause and she's only stalling. Finally she opens the stall door and steps out.

"You're not supposed to be in here," she points out. Alec shoots a disinterested glance at the door to the restroom and when she follows his gaze, she sees that he's tacked a home-made "Out of Order" sign to it.

"Oh." Dammit, did he have to be so fucking clever all the time? "Are you going to yell at me some more?"

He looks at her and sighs: it's a huge sigh, it lifts his shoulders and inflates his chest before he lets it out all at once. It's as though he's so exasperated with her that he can't find the effort even to have it out with her, and she starts to wish she hadn't come out of the stall.

Then, in one long and lithe movement, he's pushed away from the sink he'd been leaning against and his arms come around her, his hands sliding over her back as he settles her against his chest.

It knocks the air out of her, both because it's so gracefully done and because she'd been expecting more anger from him. She stiffens for a moment, completely unsure of how to handle this tenderness, and she hears him puff out a quick breath when her muscles tense.

"Relax, would you?"

It is silly, to be so thrown by this intimacy when he's kissed her senseless two nights in a row now. And he's so warm, he feels so safe after the shark-infested waters of the courtroom…she is relaxing, not much but a little more with each moment that slips by. He smells good too, clean and masculine, and she wants to bury her face in his chest and think about that until everything else fades away. She doesn't, but only because she's always been one to face her problems, and this trial is definitely a problem for her.

"Are you still cross with me?"

"I'm not bloody pleased," he admits, his voice rumbling low in his chest. "But I know why you did it. I'm…I'm sorry for shouting at you back there, in front of everyone."

She nods, knowing he can feel her head moving against his chest.

He rubs her back a few more times and then lets her go, stepping back a pace so he can take her in. She knows he's trying to determine how upset she is, and his eyes trace over her carefully.

"I could quite happily throttle your sister, mind you," he says, and his expression hardens a bit. "Blackmailing you in the middle of a bloody murder investigation…who does that sort of thing? Has she no moral compass?"

"Honestly? Only when it suits her." Ellie's shoulders slump. "I turned her down the first time she asked, but then you went into hospital and I was so desperate for some answers…"

"We all were," he says, and Ellie is slightly surprised to hear him group himself with the town even in retrospect…but in the midst of her misery, it imparts a tiny bit of warmth. "Can we get out of this bathroom now?"

She groans. "Is everyone else still out there?"

He nods and she almost retreats back into the stall, but he brushes a hand down her arm. "I'll be right beside you. Let's get you home, and Lucy can pick up Tom from school."

"Not Lucy," Ellie says, her teeth gritting slightly.

"Well, I'll get him then. But first let's get you out of here."

Somehow he gets her out of the courthouse and back to her car without too much incident. She can hear Beth yell something after them and she can feel everyone's eyes burning into her as they walk, but she keeps her eyes on Alec's back and focuses on the texture of his jacket and nothing else. He won't let anyone near her, which she's grateful for, and by the time she drives out of the car park she feels like they'd had to walk for miles. The silence settles around them and she's never been so grateful for it in her life.

Alec leads the way into the house and immediately sets about making strong tea. Ellie has a quick memory of something her own mother had always told her: when you're feeling sad or overwhelmed, a cup of tea with a bit of extra sugar will always do the trick. That's exactly what Alec makes for her, and he presses it into her hands and makes sure she takes a few sips. Then he takes her car keys and heads out to pick up Tom.

Reflexively, she thinks that Alec collecting Tom from school will make it look even more like they've been having an affair…but she quiets that thought. It's not important, she just doesn't want to think about Joe.

She'd thought that Alec had only offered to collect Tom in order to get her out of the bathroom, but she's glad that he's really doing it. It might not be very mature to be mad at Lucy but she can't help it. She'll want to know more about how the defense found out about her lending her sister money, but she's had enough for today. Those questions can be answered later.

Alec, Tom and Fred arrive home and Alec locks the doors before coming to join Ellie in the living room. She hadn't expected him to get Fred from the child minder's, and her arms open for her son immediately. Alec settles Fred into his mum's lap.

"Don't answer the door tonight," he tells her. "Everyone's emotions will be high. Tomorrow you may want to take the boys out of town for the day. I talked to Tom's teachers. They're not expecting him back until the trial is finished. They've sent him with some homework that should help him stay up to speed."

Ellie runs her fingers through Fred's curls, taking comfort in the familiar weight and warmth of him against her chest. Every day she is thankful that he won't remember any of this.

"You think Joe is going to go free," she says after a long moment. Alec hesitates.

"Yes," he says, the word hissing out with a long, harsh release of his breath. "I do."

"Yeah." Ellie won't look at him. "I do too."

He stands there in the center of her sitting room for another long moment, his fingers moving restlessly. Then he comes over and sits on the couch. His arm slips around her shoulders and he draws her into him, cupping his hand gently around Fred as well. As he settles her against his chest, she lets out a huge, shuddering breath that becomes a sob.

Tom comes into the room at the sound of his mother's crying, and Alec motions to him that he should take Fred. As soon as Tom does so, Alec wraps his other arm around Ellie.

"It's okay," he tells the boys. "Your mum is going to be just fine. Tom, do you think you could feed wee Fred?"

Tom nods.

"You're a good lad. Go on now, I'll take care of your mum, she'll come see you in a few minutes."

Ellie can hardly hear him speak over the tide of her grief. She is gripping Alec's jacket like it will save her from drowning in it. He shelters her, keeping her anchored against his chest as she lets it out. His hands are large and warm and they move over her back in big, comforting circles as she expels all of her horror, all of her rage at the unfairness of it all: Danny's death and Joe's guilt, of their lives turned up-side down in court and the knowledge that Joe might be free in just another day and a half.

Through it all, Alec shields her, giving her this time to shipwreck and then, slowly, pull herself back out of the nightmare again. Her sobs are powerful things that shake them both for a long time, but he never lets go.

She comes up from it slowly, at first only aware of her aching lungs and throat. Then she feels his warmth and the soothing motions of his hands on her back. And then at last she realizes that he is humming to her.

It's quiet, she almost feels it in his chest more than she hears it, but Alec is humming her a lullaby. When she peeks up at his face, his eyes are closed and he looks younger. She closes her eyes as well and leans against his chest, trying to determine which melody he's humming.

He comes to the end of the lullaby, although she doesn't know how many times he's hummed it to her in the midst of her grief. She lifts her head.

"What song is that?"

"'S called _Dream Angus_. My mum used to sing it to me when I was upset, and I sang it to Daisy when she was Fred's age." He pauses, and then, very softly and with cheeks that are starting to flush, he sings it for her:

" _Can ye no hush your weepin', all the wee lambs are sleepin', Birdies are nestlin' nestlin' together, Dream Angus is hirplin' oer the heather…_

_Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell, Angus is here wi' dreams to sell, Hush ye my baby and sleep without fear, Dream Angus has brought you a dream my dear… _"__

__He stops, embarrassed, and shakes his head. "There's more, but I don't remember the rest." He looks at her for a while. "Your boys are worried about you."_ _

__She nods and pulls free of his arms. The room feels cold after being held, and much as she'd like climb upstairs and go to sleep while she still feels comforted, she knows she needs to reassure Tom and Fred that she really is okay._ _

__She walks into the kitchen and hugs her children, taking an extra moment to thank Tom for caring for Fred. She's proud of this son of hers: he's weathered all of this with far more strength and courage than she has, and the fact that he'll be a grown man in a few short years is an ache and a joy._ _

__She goes back into the sitting room to see if Alec wants some tea, and she's startled to see him heading for the door._ _

__"Are you leaving?"_ _

__He turns, looking a bit guilty. "It's been a long day, and I don't want to confuse Tom."_ _

__She wants to ask, to plead, for him not to go. But she flinches from that vulnerability, especially after crying all over his shirt, so she nails him with a glare instead._ _

__"Don't you dare walk out of that door, Alec Hardy. You're going to come into the kitchen and have something to eat, and then I'll make you up a bed on the sofa and that's final."_ _

__"Not that bloody sofa again," Alec retorts. "I'd be happier on the floor."_ _

__"More of your cheek, and it's the floor you'll get," she replies, and turns on her heel back to the kitchen. There's a moment when she thinks he'll leave after all, but after a small pause he comes in and settles at her table while she fixes something to eat. She's still not much of a cook, but she's improved over the past few months._ _

__After dinner, she makes up the sofa for him again. He eyeballs it for a while, but thanks her. The four of them gather around the telly, although Tom is the only one really paying it any attention. Around 9 o'clock, Ellie gives up. She's exhausted. Tom heads to his room and she puts Fred down, then wishes Alec goodnight. She's asleep almost before her head hits the pillow._ _

____

**-AE-**

She isn't sure what wakes her, but all of a sudden she's fully conscious. She stares at the ceiling for a second, heart pounding, and then swings her legs out of the bed. She can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, and her first instinct is to check on her children. She heads into the hallway, going to Fred's room first, and then she hears the commotion coming from the sitting room and she realizes it's not her children that need her.

She moves down the stairs quickly because Alec sounds like he's in pain, and her mind is flying through possible scenarios: he's having a heart attack is her first thought, or his pacemaker isn't working, or someone's hurt him, or he's somehow hurt himself…

She sees him thrashing on the sofa, struggling to breathe, gulping for air as though he's drowning, and Ellie realizes that it's a nightmare.

You're not supposed to wake people having powerful nightmares, but she's afraid for him. She wants to put her arms around him or shake him, but either could make the situation worse.

Before she can decide what to do, Alec's eyes shoot open. They are wild, panicked, and he doesn't register her presence at all. Then he crumbles, dragging an arm over his face as he breaks down into deep, aching sobs.

 _God, how long has he been like this?_ Ellie places a hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under her palm.

"Go to bed," he tells her in a thick, broken voice.

"I will not." She doesn't know what to do, exactly, but going back to bed is absolutely not going to happen.

It takes him a few minutes, but he gathers himself. He drags his arm away from his face and his eyes remind her of Tom's just after he learned about Joe: wide and young and innocent, but tired of the world at the same time. It breaks her heart. Alec is far too good a man to look so abandoned. She has both hands on his chest now, trying to soothe him through the simple act of touch.

"Is it…?"

"Sandbrook," he agrees.

"How long have you had them?"

"Since I f—for a long time. It's alright, Ellie. I drown most nights, I'm almost used to it." He tries a wry smile but her fingers dig into his shirt. "Really, I'm fine. Go back to bed."

"Stop telling me what to do. You're not my boss anymore."

He rolls his eyes. "When did you get so bloody obstinate?" he asks her.

She ignores him. "You scared me."

"'M sorry." He rubs his chest a bit.

"Heart okay?"

He gives her a strange look, then his eyes flicker away. "Getting there."

She nods, relieved, and his eyes come back to her face. She can't seem to take her hands off of him, but he hasn't protested in any way. Even as she's thinking it, he covers one of her hands with his own.

"One of us should rest," he murmurs.

"You won't sleep again tonight, will you?" she asks him. He winces a bit and shakes his head. "You've really got to stop scaring me like that.

"I don't do it on purpose," he argues gruffly. Then his expression changes. His fingers come up and brush her cheek. "You shouldn't worry about me."

She lets out a half-annoyed, half-amused puff of air. "You haven't given me much choice, have you?"

"How's that?" he asks.

"I…need you. You're important." She avoids his eyes, suddenly shy, and Alec levers himself up onto one elbow. His fingers cup her jaw, tangling in with her curls, and his mouth meets hers. This is not the soft kisses from before: he needs her, needs their connection. Gasping, she responds, her fingers curling into his shirt to pull him closer. His tongue slips into her mouth and the noise she makes is unexpected, surprising even her.

It's been so long since she's felt this way, since anyone has made her lose her head this way. From the way his fingers tremble against her jaw is a clear indication that it's the same for him. He's kissing her like she's the only thing holding him together, and it's heady and exciting and she can feel herself getting lost in him.

"Ellie…" His lips brush her ear, slide a hot trail down her throat as she tries to pull air into her lungs. Her heart beat is staccato, matching his own, and she's suddenly so tired of being alone.

There are a lot reasons why she shouldn't: the trial isn't over, they've been accused of adultery, her sons are asleep upstairs. She's nervous, too, but she still finds herself whispering his name.

"Come upstairs," she says, her voice husky.

He pulls back, eyes lidded and molten, and he studies her. His breathing is erratic, but then so is hers.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and his voice is a cat's tongue: sensual, rough. Shivers run down her spine. "Ellie, I need you to be sure."

She looks at her fingers, still curled into his shirt. She can see his heart pounding at the base of his throat, and she can feel the hitch of his breath.

"Yes," she says. "I'm sure."

His breath shudders out again and then he rises up off of the couch. He takes her hand and leads her upstairs, and though it would be strange for anyone else to lead her up to her own bedroom, the fact that it's Alec Hardy makes it exciting. The fact that she can feel his slight tremble: nervous but excited just like her, that's adding to the thrill of it too.

They step into her bedroom and she closes the door behind her. She looks at him, and for an instant the weight of what they're about to do takes her breath away. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt, and she doesn't care how heavy the weight is, she wants this man and she's tired of being alone when he's always been here with her.

She crosses over to him and his fingers leave his shirt buttons, both hands coming up to cup her face. He kisses her and she drags her hands down his flanks, those long, smooth sides of him.

He undresses her and it's slow, and she should feel self-conscious but she doesn't. She can't, not when he's looking at her with those big eyes of his. She gets her hands into his hair, something she didn't know she wanted to do until she was doing it, and a low growl issues from his throat as her fingers push through the thick locks of it.

His own hands slide over her skin, gentle but urgent, and when she tugs him toward the bed, he follows.

**-AE-**

He wakes her very early in the morning, and she doesn't want to open her eyes because he is warm and his now-steady heartbeat is soothing under her ear.

"I should go back downstairs before the boys wake up," he murmurs, but his hand is running slowly up and down her back, and he's as reluctant to leave as she is to let him. She burrows into his chest for another few moments, and then she loosens her hold on him with a sleepy sigh. She just catches his hint of a smile as he slides out of the bed.

It's good to know he hasn't had second thoughts. She had expected to, but she doesn't either.

He dresses and heads downstairs, and she drifts back to sleep on a pillow that still smells like his shampoo.

The next time she wakes, it's because she can hear her children's voices and she can smell fresh coffee. She knows that the shoe is going to drop in the Crown Court tomorrow, but this morning she doesn't care. This morning is almost perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost felt that this happened too quickly, but I also think that these two have a level of trust and intimacy (in the context of this particular story) to make sex a natural progression of their relationship – and even though both Ellie and Alec are aware of the fact that the timing leaves something to be desired, there aren’t any regrets and I think that’s part of why it works.
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoyed it! See you back for the last chapter!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! I can't really believe it.
> 
> This has been an incredible experience for me. I have never finished something like this before, and I certainly never expected for it to get the response that it has. You have all encouraged me with your amazing words, you've been so kind, and I could not have kept writing without that support, so thank you! I love you all, I really do! And now that you know how much I love you, I really must apologize…because…
> 
> Just a warning: you guys are going to hate me when you get to the end of this chapter. To quote a certain Doctor, I am so, so sorry. BUT there will be more coming very soon, I promise.
> 
> Enjoy the final chapter of Convalescence, and I hope that you guys will keep on reading as I kick off the sequel. I'm excited because Alec Hardy is much healthier now, so my options are wide open. Okay, no more teasing! See you at the end!
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: Stalker Behavior**

The morning of the verdict is not nearly so peaceful as waking up beside Alec had been. By the time he arrives to ride with her to the Crown Court, Ellie is in a full-blown battle with Tom about whether or not he'll accompany them to the courtroom for the closing arguments and possible verdict.

"Why do you want to go?"

"He's my father! And Danny was my friend!" Tom's arms are crossed over his chest. "I want to know what happens."

Ellie is close to the breaking point. Her motherly instincts are unanimously against allowing Tom to come to the court for what will no doubt be a dramatic end to the legal battle. But he's right: it was his father and his best friend, and she isn't sure Tom is going to take no for an answer this time. She also doesn't have a lot of time to talk him out of it: they'll have to leave for the courthouse soon if they're going to make it on time.

She resists the urge to gauge Alec's reaction to Tom's request. As Tom's mother, the final decision is up to her.

She sucks in a deep breath, and, with a heavy heart, nods. "Alright, Tom. But don't talk to anyone that isn't from town, all right?"

He nods and heads to the car. Ellie scoops up Fred – she'll have to drop him off quickly if they're going to make it to court on time. Alec gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading to the passenger side of the car, and she lets out a grateful breath for that small comfort as they head out. Her thoughts drift as she drives.

She isn't sure what to call the two of them, or if she even wants to have a label for them at all. It is enough for her that he's here, that he wants to be here. It helps her put one foot in front of the other today, when otherwise she might not have been able to face it.

After the briefest stop at the child minder's, the three of them are on their way to the Crown Court. The press is in a feeding frenzy outside of the doors, and Ellie's face sets into a grim mask when she sees them.

"Stick close," she tells Tom. She nods to Alec and he goes first, striding ahead of them into the press of bodies and cameras. Close behind him, Ellie also wades through. She keeps her chin up and her eyes forward, but she's tucked Tom into her side. After a few very claustrophobic moments, they're through. Then it's right up the steps to the courtroom with only a couple of minutes to spare.

As the three of them take their seats, Ellie sees that Beth and Mark Latimer are already here. They are sitting side by side, but stiffly, and Chloe sits beside them, pale and resolute. Ellie turns her face away before they can turn and stare at her. Just as he had the day of the hearing, Alec places himself between her and the dock.

The rest of the town files into the room and settles into their seats. Nervous conversation fills the room, but Alec, Ellie and Tom are all silent. They observe the barristers and their juniors and exchange thoughts with a glance. Ellie has a sense of foreboding that makes her want to squirm in her seat, but she tamps it down.

Maggie and Olly are there, sitting on the other side of the glass box. Olly glances over and his eyes widen at the sight of Tom. Lucy is behind them and Ellie doesn't meet her gaze. She isn't sure if Lucy can look her in the eye, either, but she isn't keen to take the chance. She slips her arm around Tom's shoulders and gives him a quick squeeze. He looks up at her with anxious eyes, and she wishes she could find some comforting words to say…but she can't think of anything. She just gives him a sad smile, wishing she'd put her foot down about letting him come.

They all stand as the judge enters. The sudden hush in the room is almost eerie, and the tension is a tangible thing. Before long they're in the midst of closing arguments. Ellie is waiting for the ace up Jocelyn's sleeve, but it never comes. She does her best, she argues as best she can, but Sharon has punched too many holes in their credibility, she's exposed too many cracks in the town. Ellie admires her for her fight, for sticking up for Danny and condemning Joe right to the end. But she can tell that it isn't enough.

Sharon's closing arguments make Tom uncomfortable. He keeps looking to her and Alec as though searching for answers to the questions Sharon is raising all over again. She knows that deep down, Tom doesn't want his dad to be guilty, and Sharon is at her best, passionate and sharp as razor. Ellie grasps her son's hand and gives it a squeeze.

Her heart is heavy as the Court Manager indicates that the closing arguments are finished and that it's time for the jury to deliberate. Court is recessed while they enter a private room to discuss the case. Everyone else moves into the reception area or else onto the patio with the coffee cart.

Ellie wants to keep her distance, but that's hard in such a small space. She's feeling like a lioness protecting her cub, because if anyone makes a scene while Tom is here she'll happily give them a piece of her mind or maybe a kick to the balls.

Oliver is the first one to make his way over, although the Latimers are watching her and Tom closely.

"Aunt El—"

"Oliver, if the next words out of your mouth aren't 'I'm sorry,' I wouldn't even bother," Ellie tells him. "I don't have anything to say to you or to Lucy."

His mouth clicks shut. Lucy approaches from behind him.

"Oi, is that really necessary?" she asks.

"Lucy, I really don't think you should be near me right now." Ellie's blood pressure is rising, and she balls her hands into fists without really realizing she's doing so.

Alec steps in. "Get away," he says. Oliver opens his mouth to protest, and Alec's eyes snap to him. "The pair of you, back off now, I mean it. This is your last warning."

"You're not a copper anymore," Oliver reminds him.

"Only means there are less rules to follow," Alec snaps, and Oliver takes his mother's arm and pulls her away.

As soon as Oliver and Lucy are out of earshot, he turns his attention to Ellie. His jaw is tight.

"I may need to leave today after court," he tells her.

Her mouth drops open. "What, _tonight_?"

He drags a hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, tonight." There's tension in his voice, and it makes the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She knows this tone: something isn't right, and he is going to do his best to keep it to himself.

"You can't be serious, not with how today might go—"

"I don't think I have a choice."

"Is it Sandbrook?"

"Maybe." He hesitates. "I have a strong suspicion that it might be, yes."

"Christ, Alec—!"

"If I do have to go, you need to go right back to your house. Promise me, Ellie. Go home and lock the doors. I'll be back as soon as I can, I just need to check on someone."

"Has something happened?" she demands. Tom is watching them argue, clearly confused, and Alec glances at him before looking back at her.

"I got a text from a friend. There's a woman I've been…well, a woman I helped hide. I need to make sure Lee hasn't gone near her."

"Don't you know where he is? Didn't you have a tail on him?"

" _Yes_ , but he's clever. This is important, Ellie. And I promise I'll tell you the whole story when I get back."

"Yeah you bloody will," she replies, glaring up at him. "You keep far too much of this to yourself. I can _help_ you, you know. I'm a pretty good detective."

His eyes soften. "I know," he agrees.

Oh Christ, those eyes are going to be her undoing. And he is far too bloody aware of that fact. She doesn't get a chance to shake it off, however, because Beth has finally come over. She moves quickly, those years of running making her light on her feet.

"You've destroyed this case," Beth says, the fury in her eyes mixed with heartbreak. "What are we going to do if he goes free, huh? Just walks out of here like it never happened, like Danny _doesn't matter!_ "

Her voice is getting louder quickly. Ellie knows better than to touch her when she's in this state, but she glances at Alec and he shifts in Beth's direction, ready to act if he needs to. He's beginning to reveal rather cat-like reflexes of his own as his recovery carries on, and considering how furious Beth is, those reflexes might come in very handy.

"Joe is going to be punished, Beth, I promise you. Even if—" Ellie's throat closes around the words and they come out strangled—"Even if the verdict isn't what…isn't what we want. I will not _stop_ until he goes to prison for what he's done. _I promise you._ "

Alec's eyes meet hers over Beth's head, and she knows what she's done. She's made the same vow to Beth as he had to Pippa and Lisa's families. She wonders if he wants to warn her off of it, if he thinks this is too much to promise, or if he's the only one that understands.

Broadchurch is her Sandbrook, but it isn't just the case. It's also her home, these are still her people, and this is not a vow she makes lightly. He gives her a small nod: he's still with her. If Joe walks free today, he'll be there to help her fulfill her promise to Beth.

Mark and Chloe come over and take Beth's arms. They pull her away, but Beth's eyes hold Ellie's for a few more long, scornful moments.

Ellie holds her gaze, and when Beth finally turns away, she realizes that her hands are trembling. She means every word: no matter what the outcome of the day is, Ellie will make sure that Danny gets to rest in peace knowing that Joe is suffering the consequences of his fatal selfishness.

Alec touches her back, watching her closely. She meets his gaze.

"I'm alright," she tells him. He gives her a slightly disbelieving look, and she swats at him gently. "Oh, fine—I _will_ be alright, is that better?"

He nods and turns to Tom. "I think it's time for some tea," he says, and Tom nods vigorously. He leads the way, leaving the adults behind quickly as he makes his way to the coffee cart. Ellie wonders if Alec is aware of just how much Tom has come to care for him.

They all order tea and find a place to sit, hands wrapped around cups.

"You think Dad's going to go free, don't you?" Tom asks Ellie. She hesitates and glances at Alec.

"I think there's a good chance of that, yes," she says. Beside her, Alec's hand comes up to rub at his eyes, his nose scrunching up a bit. Ellie knows him well enough to know he's worried and tired. The added pressure of whatever it is that is going on with Lee Ashworth isn't helping.

"If that happens, Tom, you're not to let him near you. I know he's your dad, but he's signed over his rights as a guardian to your mum. Don't talk to him alone, don't go with him anywhere unless your mum or I are with you," Alec tells him. Tom nods, staring down at the paper cup in his hands.

"I promise," he says, and Alec ruffles his hair a bit.

"Good lad. We've been missing out on football practice. We'll have to fix that soon, eh?"

Tom nods and Ellie sees him smile for the first time today. She lets out a relieved breath and gives Alec a grateful smile of her own.

Forty-five more minutes pass slowly, and then they're paged back into the courtroom. The jury has come to a consensus: it's time for a verdict.

On unstable legs, Ellie walks with Alec and her son back to the courtroom. Her eyes slip over everyone else, and their eyes move over her too. Many of them are whispering their pet theories, and Ellie hears a lot of people trying to guess what the jury's decision is. She keeps her mouth shut and her eyes forward as everyone takes their places in the courtroom.

Everyone is watching the jury as they file in, everyone but Beth. Her eyes are locked on Ellie, and Ellie sighs. She wishes she could go put her arms around her friend, but Beth was like a wildcat at the moment, ready to slash at anyone who drew within reach. That goes double for Ellie.

The Court Manager addresses the jury, asks if they've reached a decision.

They have.

Everyone in the courtroom is silent. They're all looking at the jury, or else at Joe in his glass box. Ellie can see that everyone is tense and expectant.

Joe stares at the jurors, his face open and innocent, and Ellie wants to spit on it. Beth is staring at them too, but she looks as though she's in agony. Her eyes are pleading with them; she wants them to end this pain for her, to close this chapter of loss and give Danny his justice at last.

Her silent begging falls on deaf ears.

"We find the defendant not guilty."

Ellie sucks in a breath because, even though she'd been expecting it, it is still a blow to hear the words spoken out loud. Her hand finds Tom's and she grips it tightly. He turns to look at her with huge eyes while Beth dissolves in front of everyone. Mark reaches over to comfort her. She twitches away at first and then lets him offer her that comfort, and there are tears in his eyes too. Beside her, Alec is sitting up very straight in his chair. He is staring at Joe, and Joe is staring at Ellie.

Everyone is speaking at once, and she knows that even though the verdict has gone his way, Joe is in real physical danger now. She can hear it in the voices of all the people around her: it's just as it had been with Jack Marshall, only this time they've got the truly guilty party. Nige in particular is vocal in his outrage, but Ellie knows it's only a matter of time before Mark joins him. She's feels a chill, because before Danny's death she had never known them this way, never known any of them to be dangerous. Now she knows they all are.

The judge's eyes pass over all of them. She looks at Joe last.

"Mr. Miller, you have been found not guilty, you are free to leave the dock," she says.

"Thank you, My Lady," Joe replies.

Ellie can't breathe in this room. She knows that Joe will be discharged next, his acquittal noted down in the records. And then he'll be free. Completely free. The words ring over and over again in her mind as the judge addresses the jurors. As soon as she can, while the judge is still addressing the jury, she slips out of the room, tugging Tom with her. She glances back, but Alec motions for them to keep going. As everyone starts to move, he heads for the Latimers to have a private word. He's stalling them, giving her time to get out with Tom. She knows he'll follow when he can.

The press jump at her as soon as they see her, but she rushes through them. She ignores them all, she's getting better at that, and makes a beeline for her car. She shields Tom's face from the cameras as best she can and doesn't say a word though they are all yelling questions at her. A couple of them follow her, hoping to find out what had happened in the courtroom, but she makes it to her car and locks herself in and Tom in.

"Mum…what's going to happen now?" Tom asks. He sounds scared, younger than his thirteen years, and she reaches for his hand.

"I don't know, darling. I really don't."

They sit there in silence, holding onto one another, until at last Alec knocks on the window. She unlocks the car and lets him in, and as soon as the door is closed again she starts the engine. Alec touches her hand.

"You okay?"

She shakes her head, and when she looks at him there are tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Better let me drive," he says, and they circle the car to switch places. As she straps herself into the passenger side, he reaches over and places his hand on her knee. It rests there the whole drive home, except for the brief moments he needs to change gears. She's glad of the contact, it's an anchor.

"We'll find more evidence," Alec says at last. "We'll take him back to court."

It sounds like a promise, but she can't see how it can be done.

"Where do we even start?" she asks, hating the defeated note in her voice. Alec glances at her, and there's a small twitch in his cheek.

"With you taking the DI job," he tells her. "And me getting back into the bullpen, even if all I'm cleared for is desk duty."

There are problems with his scenario, but before she can point them out, he parks the car at her house and the three of them head inside. Alec offers to pick up Fred while Ellie and Tom sit down and talk about what it means for Joe to be free. Her head is spinning and all she really manages to tell him is that she loves him and that Joe has no legal rights as a parent. She promises to keep him safe.

He nods and disappears to his room, and Ellie wonders what he's doing up there, how he's coping with it. She almost hopes he's playing video games; at least that will zone him out to this new uncertainty in their lives.

She collapses on the couch. She wonders how long it will take Joe to find her in her new little place. She wonders if he really believes she had an affair with Alec. She regrets not leaving Broadchurch far behind now, but it's done. They can only move forward from this point.

Alec comes back with Fred. He settles down on the chair across from the couch and holds the boy in his lap, bouncing him lightly without really thinking about it. Ellie sits up.

"Please don't go tonight," she says. "Not tonight. Tomorrow we'll both go. You can see this person you need to see and I'll take Tom and Fred out for lunch, get them out of Broadchurch."

He hesitates, she can see the war in him. Then his eyes meet hers and he nods. "Tomorrow, then," he agrees, and she could cry with relief. He moves over to sit with her on the couch, and Fred stretches himself out between them while Alec's arm settles around her shoulders.

"Do you think he'll come tonight?"

"I think he'll go to the house in town first," she replies. He nods, deep in thought. They sit like that for a while, quiet, absorbing the shocks of the day. Eventually he brushes a hand through Fred's curls and then stands.

"I'll make us some tea," he says, "unless you want something stronger?"

"Tea for now. Once the boys are asleep…well, there's a bottle of gin around here somewhere."

He nods and disappears into the kitchen. She hears him fill the kettle while she stands and takes Fred over to his toys. She clears her mind, or tries to, of everything except for the sight of her youngest son playing with his toys. She focuses on his beautiful smile and those wild curls that are undeniably hers. If she focuses on Fred and not anything else, she can smile too. Just for a second.

After tea, Alec insists on heading into town to keep an eye out for Joe. Ellie doesn't want him to go, but she doesn't argue because she also desperately wants to know that Joe won't come here. Alec would definitely stop him if he tried, so she doesn't argue.

She walks him to the door and he tells her he'll keep her updated via text. He'll be back in the morning. She nods through all of this, and then he pulls her into his chest and kisses her. There's a hard edge to his kiss, she can taste his desperate need to protect her and her sons, and she clutches at his jacket to keep herself on her feet.

"You'll be safe, I promise," he tells her.

She tries to say thank you, but her throat is swelling with emotion. His forehead rests against hers for a moment, a surprisingly sweet gesture, and then he kisses her cheek and heads out into the night. Ellie locks the doors behind him and gathers Tom and Fred for a movie marathon. It does a terrible job of distracting her, but at least it entertains Fred. After a while, both of her sons are asleep on the couch. She knows she should wake them and put them to bed, but she doesn't. She stays there with them, one of her hands on each of their backs, and waits to hear from Alec.

**-AE-**

He shoots her a text message in the very small hours of the morning. She has finally gotten the boys to bed and is sitting in her kitchen with a glass of wine when her phone buzzes.

**Joe won't be coming near you.**

Ellie is stunned. **How did you pull that off?** she replies.

**Community persuasion. I'll explain tomorrow?**

**Alright, see you in a few hours** , she texts back. She finishes her wine and then drags herself up to bed. She doesn't truly sleep, but she does manage to doze off every once in a while. She forces herself back out of bed at 5:30am to shower and put on some clothes before Alec arrives. He turns up at half past six and it doesn't look as though he's slept, either. They move into her sitting room and he settles next to her on the sofa.

"Tell me what happened," she says. He drags a hand over his face.

"I wasn't the only one looking for Joe." He looks at her. "Half the town was waiting outside of your old house. But I was the one that found him."

"Where was he?" She thinks she knows and disgust is a cold drop in her stomach.

"He was at the clifftop hut," he tells her, confirming her unspoken theory. He reaches over for her hand and laces their fingers. "He was angry with me. He said he knew you weren't at your house and he knew about…us. I told him he needed to get out of Broadchurch for his own safety, and he refused."

Her hand tightens in his, and he draws a soothing pattern against her skin with his thumb. "I told him that Nige Carter was at the head of a posse and they weren't going to stop until they'd found him. I reminded him that no one on the police force would be in a big rush to help him either, they're all too loyal to you."

This brings the ghost of a smile to her lips. She has dearly missed her coworkers in CID, though she doesn't let herself think of it often.

"I also told him that if he tried to get near you or the boys, he'd have me to deal with."

Her eyes come up to meet his. He is fatally serious.

"Did that work?"

"No. But then the Mark and the rest of the men from town showed up. Nige didn't think of the cottage, but Mark had. He told Joe that if he ever saw him in Broadchurch again, he'd kill him. He didn't care about going to prison. After that, Joe turned tail. I made sure he left town. Everyone will be watching for him. If he ever gets near here again, we'll know."

He sighs, drags a hand over his face. "It's not a perfect solution, but my instinct tells me that he's a coward. I don't think he'll be back, at least not for a while."

She nods. He's right, it isn't perfect, but she feels a lot more comfortable with the situation than she had the night before. She knows that the men of Broadchurch aren't kidding about keeping a watch for him. She also knows that Mark wasn't kidding about killing Joe if he ever saw him again.

There will be some safety here, for a while. Alec sits with her quietly, her fingers still tangled with his. Then he gets up.

"I'll make you some coffee," he says, and heads to the kitchen. Ellie closes her eyes and lets Alec's story sink in. The people of Broadchurch might not like her very much right now, but if she stays, she can keep her boys safe from Joe, and that's what she wants more than anything. She pictures Tom playing football in the sunshine and Fred waving his teddy bear around in wild delight, and their images bring her a sense of serenity.

Her momentary peace is fractured a second later. She hears a mug shatter on the floor of the kitchen.

"Alec?"

She dashes into the kitchen to find out what happened. When she finally sees Alec, he's holding onto her counter like he's going to pass out. His phone is clutched in his other hand, and his face is as pale as she's ever seen it.

"What is it?" she asks, trying not to panic. She's been trained to stay calm in stressful situations, but seeing the normally unshakable Alec like this is definitely putting her training to the test. She comes to his side, touches his arm in an effort to comfort him.

His mouth moves, but no sounds comes out at first, and now she's really scared.

"Alec, tell me what's happened," she says, forcing her voice to be clipped and professional.

He looks at her and now the shock is being replaced by white-hot rage, a sort of animal ferocity she is only barely aware that he is capable of. His eyes are dark pits in his face, though the blood is coming back to flush his cheeks now.

"Those calls to Daisy. The blocked number."

Ellie nods. She remembers Tess' phone call.

"It's him. It's Lee Ashworth." He spits the name out like it's poison in his mouth.

"How do you know?"

He hands her his phone. There's a text message open and it's a picture of Daisy arriving at school with her friends. The girl is laughing, completely unaware that she's being surveilled, and Ellie's blood turns to ice in her veins.

Under it is a brief message: **I showed you yours. You show me mine.**

"What does this mean? Alec—what is he talking about?" Fear has sharpened her voice.

"He's looking for his wife. He knows I've hidden her away. And if I don't tell him where she is…" He can't say it, he can't say what Lee will do to his daughter. Ellie thinks back to what little she knows of the Sandbrook case…the body of a young girl, left in a river for days. Alec doesn't have to say what he thinks Lee will do to Daisy if he doesn't cooperate.

She knows. It's the same thing he may have done to Pippa Gillespie.

**-FIN-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, and I'M SORRY TO END IT ON A CLIFFHANGER! Well, kind of sorry, because I'm evil like that. But I felt like this was the perfect time, the perfect situation to use in order to start a Sandbrook-centric sequel from Hardy's POV. Will Joe come back? I left that door open on purpose, too. So yes, even though Conva is done, the story isn't really over yet. Tess should be an interesting element to add too. I have lots of exciting things planned and I can't wait to hear your thoughts!
> 
> **Thank you again for everything! I wish I could do something special for each and every one of you!**


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